


For All That I Seem

by Narlth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slavery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narlth/pseuds/Narlth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Cenred's pet sorcerer, Merlin had started to lose all hope of ever being free. But when Cenred starts a war with Camelot everything starts to fall into place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all thanks to my wonderful artist  thehatmeister for drawing me such pretties. *climbs on* Go give love [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4603860?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_37131441)
> 
> To my lovely beta Vaughntronic for putting up with my sometimes questionable attempts at English.
> 
> Special thanks to dead_pendragon for helping keep me on track with her whip(s) of doom. And to everyone else on the Merlin chatzy and on The Heart of Camelot for their encouragement, thank you!
> 
> This was written for the 2015 After Camlann Big Bang. And I’d like to offer special thanks to the mods for organising us lot. Thank you!

It was a bright and sunny day in Ealdor, with almost no clouds lingering in the early morning sky. The sounds of people beginning their daily routines grew as everyone awoke from their slumbers.

 

Inside her homely one-roomed hut, Hunith had already roused, made breakfast and was attempting to wake her son. She ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair whilst calling his name. It took her a while, but eventually he woke with a yawn.

 

Hunith stood up from beside their shared bed and went to fetch Merlin’s breakfast down from the counter.

 

The boy in question pushed himself up into a sitting position, rubbing at his large blue eyes to clear them. He was wearing a shirt much too big for his tiny four year old frame, and his hair was sticking up in every which way.

 

He accepted his breakfast without fuss, having already learnt it was that or nothing. He ate his food, and Hunith fetched him some clothes to change into once he was done, then helped him to put them on. 

 

She left him to put his shoes on himself, and went to put away his breakfast bowl. 

 

“Come on, Merlin.” Hunith held her hand out to her son, waiting for him to finish messing with his shoes and come join her. He was too young for her to leave him alone during the day, so he would have to accompany her as she went to help with the crop fields.

 

He hurried over, fitting his small hand securely into hers before they left their home.

 

~

 

It was nearing midday when they heard the sounds of horses approaching. Everyone paused. One or two riders stopping off in the village was not an uncommon occurrence, but a large group was almost unheard of and could only spell trouble for the residents.

 

The adults still out on the fields exchanged glances, all of them with worried and confused expressions on their faces.

 

Hunith shifted her gaze to the left, where Merlin was busy playing some sort of game with some twigs. She placed her basket gently on the ground, fully expecting to come back to it later. Other villagers in the field did the same.

 

Calling Merlin over, Hunith joined the group of people making their ways back towards the centre of the village.

 

“What’s that sound?” Merlin asked. As young as he was and coming from a village as small as theirs, he had only seen horses a small handful of times. He’d never seen more than one at a time, so he was unfamiliar with the sounds a large group of them made.

 

“It’s horses Merlin.” She had taken his hand again to prevent him getting distracted and left behind. He was a very curious child and at times he would become so lost in his thoughts he forgot everything else around him.

 

As the group rounded into the village, Hunith felt a chill spread through her at what she saw.

 

Men on horses filled up almost the entirety of the village. Most of them were dressed as soldiers from Cenred’s army. The few exceptions to this was the trio who sat together on their horses behind the soldiers. They were dressed instead in black cloaks which obscured their features and made them appear imposing, elevated as they were on their mounts. In total, there must have been about twenty five riders, something which seemed excessive for a small village of unarmed civilians.

 

The villagers that had already gathered, were all but huddling together, their collective nervousness almost a visible force.

 

She and the others from the field slowed to an almost halt as they drew closer, and Hunith felt Merlin grasp ahold of her skirts, a small sound of fear coming from him. Not only was he unaccustomed to horses, but Ealdor was not a massively populated village, so he was also wary around crowds.

 

They would have remained where they were–stood just behind the main group of villagers–had it not been for a pair of soldiers who walked around behind them, and practically sheparded everyone forwards to make one big group.

 

The close proximity of bodies within the crowd was stifling, and the multitude of voices sounded like a hushed roar. Down by her feet she felt Merlin press himself right up against her legs. Looking down, and she could see that he had buried his face into the fabric, leaving only his mess of hair sticking out.

 

Hunith dropped a hand onto his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. She ran her eyes over the group of Cenred’s men, unable to help the burst of curiosity that almost threatened to overcome her trepidation.

 

Without warning the three riders in cloaks dismounted, causing a hush to fall over the whole village, as soldiers and residents turned as one to watch them.

 

The rest of the riders parted, and began to slowly spread out, encircling the villagers and cutting off any routes for them to escape, and leaving a gap through which the trio stepped forwards.

 

Now standing out, half way between the two opposing groups, the middle member of the trio stepped forward and lifted their hands to their hood. In doing so, the long sleeves of the coak slid down their arms and revealed the glint of a dark grey band of metal sitting tightly on a thin left wrist.

 

A murmur spread through the crowd, as those that recognised what the band did expressed a mixture of confusion and trepidation. The speculation would have continued, had it not been for the cloak's hood finally being lowered.

 

The person that stood before them was someone they would never have expected to see in a small village such as Ealdor, and so her reveal rendered everyone silent.

 

Long curled blond hair was in stark contrast to the dark fabric of her clothes, whilst her brown eyes all but flashed as they flicked across the sea of faces before her. Despite this, everyone couldn’t help but notice how worn out Morgause looked.

 

It was common knowledge that Morgause was in Cenred’s employ, but all the stories and rumours they had heard portrayed the twenty-something year old as overconfident and beautiful–someone who could not be tamed or beaten down. These rumours were not false, though she did have an unexplainable air of fragility, probably as a result of how sharp her features appeared. Regardless, this did not stop everyone feeling intimidated by her.

 

After a minute, she finally broke the silence.

 

“I am here on your king’s orders.” She paused after this first announcement, although it was an obvious conclusion to draw. “He is looking for those of you who posses the special skills that he requires.”

 

In the crowd people turned, looking between each other. Hunith tightened the grip she had on Merlin’s shoulder. No one said anything, but it was clear they all knew exactly what skill Cenred had sent Morgause out to find people in possession of. Her eyes flitted around, knowing she would not find an easy escape, but seeking one regardless.

 

Merlin muttered a sound of confusion and distress when her hold on him started to hurt. She abruptly loosened her grip, and brought her other hand over to run slowly through his hair, soothing him.

 

Morgause continued speaking before Hunith had time to even attempt to formulate another plan to get away.

 

“Cenred is very specific about those he wants in his employ, so you shall bring all of your children to me.”

 

Sounds erupted, breaking the silence. People were no longer stationary and silent. Instead they had broken out into frantic conversations, and a divide seemed to appear between those with and those without children. But slowly, one by one, parents brought their children to the front of the crowd. A soldier stood by to make sure the children stayed where they were, as their parents retreated.

 

Soon all of the village children bar Merlin were stood before Morgause. Hunith strengthened her hold on Merlin’s shoulder once more.

 

“Mum?” He responded to the action, looking up at her, eyes wide and startled. She didn’t answer him, and instead pulled him as close to her as she could manage. 

 

“Hunith.” She jerked her head towards the source of her name. Her eyes landed on Edwyn. The man was standing there, his hand out, waiting for her to give Merlin over to him.

 

She wanted to ignore at him, keep Merlin by her side and away from Morgause. She held her thoughts back knowing that allowing Merlin to join the rest of the children was the only way she might be able to get him out of here. After all, she didn’t know for sure that they were searching for children with magic, it was just a suspicion.

 

Merlin himself had tangled his hands into the fabric of her dress and was looking between her and everyone around them, his eyes wide.

 

Edwyn curled his fingers encouraging Hunith to act, whilst his expression remained stoic.

 

With a quick side glance Hunith nodded, untangling one of Merlin’s hands from her dress and taking it her own. She walked them over to the other children and let go. Merlin shot her a look, still very aware of the tension of everyone around him, but the presence of the other children soon helped him relax and he turned away.

 

Morgause watched the proceedings without giving even a hint of emotion, and once she saw that her command had been followed she gestured to the cloaked figure on her right. As she did so, a few more soldiers stepped out of position, half forming a barricade between the adults and children. 

 

The person to the right revealed themselves. The fabric falling away to show the scarred face of a man. He was older then Morgause, but not massively so. He was an unknown to the villagers, no reputation preceding him.

 

He remained silent, unlike Morgause. Instead he approached the small group of children, who were suddenly all paying rapt attention.

 

He continued in silence. He waved to one of the soldiers, and the man grabbed ahold of the nearest child. His actions drew some uncomfortable sounds from the crowd, and the child in question tried to resist being moved closer to the scarred man.

 

The man bent down so he was level with the child, who had succumbed to her fear and was pale and trembling. 

 

There were a few calls from the crowd, as the man reached out and rested the palm of his hand flat against the child’s forehead. The child herself let out a squeak, expecting pain or some other bad thing to occur at the contact. But as a couple of seconds passed and nothing appeared to happen, the girl’s shoulders sagged as if she was suddenly exhausted.

 

After almost a minute the scarred man rose, shaking his head, and the soldier directed the young girl away from him and the rest of the children, finally letting her go so she could rejoin her family.

 

The lack of dramatics seemed to help calm the mood of the people.

 

The man repeated his actions for each of the children in turn. He dismissed all of them as not having whatever it was he was looking for.

 

~

 

Somehow Merlin had managed to find himself at the end of the makeshift queue that they had formed. Collectively the children looked on nervously as the first of them–Jocey he remembered her name was–was taken up to the scary looking man.

 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man despite how scary Merlin found his appearance. He didn’t understand what it was that was being searched for, or why and what would happen if someone was found with it.

 

He twisted the bottom of his shirt in his hands as he watched the man shake his head at each child. Each time he reached out to touch someone’s head, Merlin couldn’t help but think about the the burning warmth inside of his chest. Maybe that’s what the man was looking for, in which case he couldn’t be allowed to find it. No. His mum always told him not to let anyone know about it.

 

Before he even realised, there was only one person in front of him in the line. As was almost expected at this point, the man shook his head and the little boy was free to go back to his parents, leaving just Merlin.

 

The soldier grabbed his small shoulders and all but pushed him forwards to meet the man. Merlin’s blue eyes remained trained on the man’s face, feeling his nerves increase as he got closer.

 

He tried to take a step back, having decided that actually he didn’t want to this man to touch him. He didn’t want to be  searched.  Any progress he tried to make was stopped, however, by pressure from the man behind him who effectively blocked his escape.

 

His eyes snapped to the side for a second, hoping vainly to see someone who could help. Of course there was no one, and in the next second he felt the hand make contact.

 

From the point of contact he felt a cold almost trickle run through him. It slid down from his head down to his chest where it touched his magic. His magic flared within him, warming his whole body and chasing the cold away.

 

The man withdrew his hand with a surprised gasp, and almost unbalanced himself from his crouched position in his haste to retreat.

 

Behind him Morgause look startled at the man’s reaction. Merlin tried to curl into himself, whilst still maintaining eye contact with the man, almost daring him to do something.

 

“He’s perfect,” the scarred man finally spoke. His words were clearly directed behind him to his colleagues, but he did not turn to face them, instead pinning Merlin with an almost hungry gaze.

 

“Good work, Edwin. Cenred will be most pleased,” she almost purred the last word, and with a half-wave sent the final cloaked figure forwards.

 

Merlin panicked as the third figure approached him, and tried to wrestle himself out of the hands of the soldier who still kept him in place.

 

He shook his shoulders, trying to dislodge the hands, kicking his feet behind himself in a mostly failed attempt to injure his captor. No matter how hard he thrashed he could not break free. Somewhere in the crowd he heard his mother’s voice, though he had no idea what the words she was saying were.

 

The cloaked person reached Merlin, and from the folds of their cloak pulled out a small bottle. They uncorked it and leant down to force its contents on the still-struggling Merlin.

 

Merlin’s fear increased as he saw the bottle being all but shoved in his face. He had no idea what it contained but his mum had always scolded him about eating things when he didn't know what they were. Now faced with being forced to consume an unknown potion, he screamed.

 

The man holding him flinched back at the sound, but did not let up on his grip. Unfortunately a hand shot out, making use of Merlin’s already opened mouth. Three fingers found their way inside, stopping the boy from closing it again.

 

Tears filled Merlin’s eyes, and began to slide slowly down his face. The bottle was then forced between his lips, and his nose was pinched painfully closed.

 

Merlin’s throat closed when the hand left his mouth, and moved instead to keeping him from spitting the potion out again. He refocused his efforts on trying to get his hands free, giving up escaping completely as a lost cause.

 

He arched his back and tried to throw his attackers off, and twisted his wrists around in their confines. He would have kept fighting, but his lungs were starting to burn, diaphragm heaving as it tried to draw in precious air that was being forcibly denied.

 

He held out a few seconds longer, but in the end Merlin had to swallow or he would suffocate. The liquid felt thick as it travelled down his throat, making him cringe.

 

The moment the potion hit his stomach, Merlin felt himself grow tired. He stopped his struggles, and let the hands that he had been trying so hard to get away from become his support instead; the only thing that stood in the way of him and the ground. Blue eyes tried to follow the happenings around him until everything began to blur together. He gave into the draught and slipped under.

 

~

 

As Merlin went limp, Hunith cried out again. She pushed past everyone in front of her. She would have made it too, if a group of soldiers hadn’t converged on her. They held onto her as she continued to try and press forwards, crying out repeatedly.

 

To her horror, Merlin was hoisted up like he weighed nothing by same person who had drugged him. She renewed her struggle as she saw the figure turn to carry Merlin away. By some miracle she landed a few lucky hits and managed to break out of the soldiers hold.

 

For a few moments she was completely free, hair and dress flying out behind her as she ran. She collided with her target–the one carrying her son–and pulled at the fabric of their clothes making a grab for Merlin. She didn’t notice that the captor had turned, revealing himself as a slim, blonde, almost white haired man. 

 

His cold grey eyes sought Hunith out, and in a split second changed to the liquid gold hue of magic.

 

Hunith flew backwards landing hard into the waiting hands of the soldiers she had only just escaped from. She fought fruitlessly against the hands.

 

“Bring the mother along,” Morgause commanded, voice ringing clearly over the chaos. “She can be used as leverage.”

 

Morgause did not pause to see if her order would be followed, turning instead on her heel, sending her cloak billowing out around her. She headed back to her horse, knowing her every word would be obeyed, the men too scared of Cenred’s wrath should they fail.

 

As everything had played out, the rest of the villagers had remained in place, watching in shock. As the seconds passed they started to clamor at the perceived injustice that one of their own could be taken away on a whim.

 

Slowly the soldiers began to retreat from their positions, mounting their horses and getting ready to leave.

 

Once the majority of of the armed men had moved off away from the crowd, one of the villagers pushed through to the front.

 

“You can’t do this!” His outcry was met with shock from the people around him, and one man even tried to pull him back. Instead he shook the hand off, and continued. “You can’t take them, you have no right to do this.” 

 

Morgause, who everyone expected to be the one to respond to the outburst, simply lifted an eyebrow at Matthew. The action was almost a challenge in itself, but the as yet unnamed man was the one to actually answer.

 

“If you think you can stop us go ahead.” The man spared half a glance back at Matthew, but didn’t stop winding a rope around the girth of his horses saddle as he spoke.

 

At this point, Merlin was lying completely limp over the man’s shoulder. Small, pale hands stood out against the black fabric. Matthew’s gaze hovered briefly over Merlin, before moving on to Hunith. 

 

He wanted to protest. As weird as Hunith’s son was, he didn’t deserve to be forced into working for Cenred, and Hunith herself was well liked by the majority of the villagers. Not just for her caring soul, but because she was always genuinely nice to everyone. He almost took another step forwards, but a squeeze from the hand on his arm reminded him that it was more than just his livelihood at stake if he continued to push.

 

He met Hunith’s eyes, and she gave a tiny nod to show she understood that he needed to think of the safety of the many and not just the few.

 

Matthew drew strength from that look and focused his attention back on the man. He hesitated only a short moment before he shook his head and allowed himself to be dragged back to rejoin the crowd.

 

~

 

Once all the soldiers were back on their horses, and both Merlin and his mother had been secured in–flanked by the mysterious man, and one of the other soldiers–the large group began to withdraw from the village.

 

Morgause directed some soldiers to ride up ahead and keep a watch out for anything unexpected. She kept herself, her two fellow sorcerers, along with their prizes in the midst of the travelling group as a last line of protection should anything happen.

 

They had been riding for just short of an hour, and were well clear of Ealdor and any wandering residents. Hunith had been drugged shortly after they had set out as she had started struggling too much and was in danger of falling and getting trampled to death. 

 

Though she knew her companions would not have blinked at the loss of the woman, Morgause knew that the leverage of having the boy’s mother at their every whim would probably prove key in getting him to do their bidding.

 

She knew Edwin agreed with her, though he would probably never voice his thought out loud. The reminder that the admission would bring forward details about his own past was something he always avoided. Either because of shame or regret, she did not know.

 

Thinking of Edwin made her recall his unusual reaction when he had first discovered the boy. She turned to look at him, eyes narrowing as she mentally recalled all of the times he had been put to work looking for magic. Never had he reacted in the way he had this time.

 

There was also his announcement afterwards, “perfect…” She pressed her lips tightly together. He must be an unusually powerful one, she made a mental note to discuss it with him later, once they were in private.

 

For now she decided that, they would just need to concentrate on getting back to the castle and to Cenred.

 

~

 

Merlin whimpered as consciousness slowly began to return to him through the foggy haze that seemed to dance in front of his eyes. He dragged one hand up to try and clear his eyes, but as he moved he felt a tug on the opposite wrist.

 

Puzzled, he blinked instead hoping his vision would clear naturally. As it did he became aware of the sounds around him–the shuffling of clothes, and the steady rhythm of people breathing. This registered as weird in his brain. Where would he be sleeping with lots of other people hanging around?

 

Before he could think on it anymore, water was thrown in his face. The shock had Merlin rolling from his left side to his right, his eyes now stared blankly at an unfamiliar ceiling. His small chest was racing up and down, while fear bled rapidly into his thoughts.

 

He heard a deep voice from somewhere in the direction of this toes, and the next second arms were under his, pulling him up first into sitting position, and then higher until he was standing on his own two feet.

 

It was then he noticed the rope running between his hands, as well as the matching one around both of his ankles.

 

He struggled to keep his feet under himself even with the support from behind, but he finally took the opportunity to actually look where he was.

 

His fear from before came back even stronger as he saw that he was in a room he did not recognise. Dark grey stones made up every surface he could see. The only colour in the room was the red embroidery of a couple of tapestries which hung on either side of an ornate chair positioned directly in front of Merlin.

 

The was a man sat in the chair, and the three sorcerers that had been in Ealdor where stood beside him–the two men to the left and Morgause to the right. Along with those four was a couple of soldiers, but they were stood on either side of Merlin, their backs almost to the walls, rather than down the front.

 

Occupants found, Merlin turned back to the front. The man in the chair was the most intimidating, and his gaze made Merlin want to hide behind his mum. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t seen his mum at all since they had been back home. He bit his bottom lip, as water started to gather in his eyes.

 

“This is your  perfect choice for our plan?” The deep voice of the seated man made Merlin whimper. His courage from earlier was completely spent,  separated as he was from everyone he knew. He tried to fold in on himself, but the soldier supporting him tightened his grip, pulling his shoulders as far back as they could go.

 

“You will look at your king when he addresses you.” The words were hissed into his ear. Merlin tried to wriggle away as spit landed on his cheek. As soon as what was said registered in his brain he found himself pressing back to the man behind him. Every instinct was telling him he needed to get away from the king.

 

“He’s damned tiny,” Cenred almost growled.

 

It was a true enough fact, Merlin was small, not just because of this age, but also in comparison to others of the same age. This was mostly down to Hunith’s status as a single mother and Merlin’s as a bastard of an unknown man. With only one adult to work for their basic needs and the stigma that came along with being an unmarried parent, and Merlin who was treated always with an air of suspicion. Suspicion drawn from others lack of knowledge about him, Something which stemmed partly from his absent father, and partly from how close Hunith kept him, ended with him sometimes having to miss out on food.

 

“That may be, but he is also very young. He has yet to be shaped. Besides, with all his magic, it won’t matter how physically strong he is,” Morgause cut in. She was loath to face her king’s anger even though they were on the same side. “And Edwin assures me that his power is beyond that of any other sorcerer he has seen.”

 

Cenred grunted in acknowledgement of her point. He rested his chin on the back of his right hand, thinking for a moment. He appeared to reach a decision, and waved to the man who had drugged Merlin.

 

“Conon. Bring the suppressors.” He returned his chin to it’s resting point after issuing the command, while his dark eyes watched emotionlessly as the task was carried out.

 

Merlin was almost hyperventilating at that point, each breath rasping as it struggled to make it’s way into his body. He had given up any form of resistance His little body was no longer able to cope with all the stress it was under.

 

He almost couldn’t muster the strength to even flinch when Conon stroked a large hand down his cheek. Out of the folds of his cloak, where he kept his most important tools, Conon produced two silver cuffs, though they were so fine they could almost be considered bracelets. In fact, from a distance people would assume they were such.

 

Merlin watched apathetically as his right wrist was lifted. He did shiver as Conon traced his fingers along the underside of his wrist. The older man’s hand was an uncomfortable warmth on Merlin’s skin. It made his fingers twitch but he could not summon the energy to pull away.

 

Blue eyes watched as the silver band was slipped over his wrist. The metal was cold against his skin, but otherwise he felt nothing else from it. There was a click as the bracelet was fastened, then Conon muttered a word Merlin had never heard before and his grey eyes lit up with gold.

 

The gold was mirrored briefly on the band, like a spark which travelled the entire length before flickering out. Merlin’s eyes widened a fraction, and if his arm hadn’t been held still he would have flinched it away in a misguided attempt to get away from the spark. Though, of course, wherever he moved his arm in the band, the spark would follow.

 

The once obvious latch that held the band closed had all but vanished, leaving only a shallow dent, a slight imprint showing where the two ends had joined.

 

His arm was kept still for a few seconds more, until Conon decided Merlin wouldn’t try to do anything else, then his arm was dropped without preamble. 

 

The second band was slid on with less fuss than the first, and whilst he had little knowledge of magic, the four year old had expected something to happen, seeing as these were clearly magical items.

 

After the second band was magically sealed, both Conon and the soldier who had been holding him let go and stepped away.

 

Merlin stumbled forwards, wincing when he collapsed onto his hands and knees, the ropes that still bound him prevented him from steadying himself and remaining standing.

 

His eyes had fallen to the floor as his body had done so, but he glanced hesitantly upwards.

 

Cenred had a satisfied expression on his face–something that worried Merlin. He was about to turn to look at the other people in the room, when Conon began speaking more in the unfamiliar language.

 

Golden light appeared once more from the bands, and growing rapidly from a faint glow to become almost blinding in it’s strength. Merlin sat back on his heels, stretching his hands out in front of him now he no longer needed to lean on them.

 

Blue eyes would have remained glued on them, had it not been for the sudden heat that washed up through Merlin. It spread from the tips of his fingers to the very ends of his toes.

 

Panic gripped his thoughts and he curled forwards into himself, arms still stretched out in front of him, hands trying fruitlessly to ground himself on the flat stone.

 

The temperature continued to rise and Merlin cried out as it went from an uncomfortable heat to a painful one. Tears flowed from his eyes, and he felt the turmoil of his normally calm magic rebel against the spell.

 

His magic, normally a source of reassurance, now scared him. It felt like tidal waves bashing against his mind, fighting to get out. It sparked against the metal trapping it, causing yet more pain. 

 

He bit his lip until he drew blood, though through the rest of his pain he didn’t notice. He managed to focus enough to look up at the three adults standing across the room from him. None of their faces held even a trace of sympathy; Conon’s, in fact, contained some glee at seeing the suffering he was inflicting.

 

The sadistic sorcerer spoke what were the last words of the spell. Merlin’s magic responded violently, and gold lit up his eyes as a wind stirred from nowhere. 

 

Merlin cried out and pressed his forehead to the floor, seeking the cool stone in an attempt to find any relief possible. His face was completely streaked with tears. He scratched at the bands trying to get them off.

 

Inside of his head Merlin felt a pounding when his magic tried for force itself free. But he pressed down as much as he could, trying to trap it before it could escape. 

 

Unfortunately he had never realised how strong his magic was, nor had he had much practice at trying to direct it. He managed to restrain the majority of it, but some still leaked past his defences. The breeze picked up until it was tugging at people's clothes, sending hair flying into faces as well as making the rooms tapestries flag loudly against the walls.

 

Just as the pressure of his fighting magic began to be too much for him to hold back, it suddenly stopped.

 

The wind his magic had conjured up ceased, and Merlin collapsed onto the floor. At the loss of the need to fight, he found himself completely exhausted, breaths coming in short, harsh puffs.

 

As he lay there trying to calm his breathing and the slight trembling of his body, he noticed that not only had his magic stopped fighting but it had retreated completely. As much as he tried he could not pull it to the surface. It was like the light you see at the end of the tunnel but can never quite reach.

 

With difficulty he turned to face the group at the front of the hall. He felt vulnerable from his position on the floor, but couldn’t muster the strength to sit up.

 

“What..?” He managed to ask, voice quiet, but clearly heard over the near silence of the room.

 

“Those bands that you are now wearing, they suppress magic,” Edwin informed him, whilst next to him Morgause automatically reached for the band she wore herself. “The king, Conon, Morgause, and myself can allow you to have access to your magic. We can also control how much access you have.”

 

Merlin simply blinked, hardly comprehending what he was hearing. His blue eyes were dulled, and his skin had taken on an almost waxy tone. His hair appeared jet black against his skin, was stuck up in random directions, and damp with sweat.

 

Some of his confusion must have been evident, as Edwin shook his head very slightly in response.

 

Silence fell for a few minutes after that, with only the sounds of Merlin’s distress breaking it.

 

Cenred nodded to one of the soldiers who stood silently, back to the wall. He stepped forwards, and scooped Merlin up into his arms. The boy was all but limp in his grip.

 

“Take him back to his room.”

 

~

 

Merlin was hardly aware of what was happening around him, his whole body felt heavy as he was carried through the castle. He made no effort to look where he was being taken, almost content to just stare blankly at the dull stone of the ground.

 

Before he even realised it, he found himself being lowered onto a green, sheeted bed. If he wasn’t so sleepy he might have tried to bury himself in the seemingly luxurious fabric, but as it was all he could manage was to stroke one hand across it, feeling the smooth fibres under the pads of his hand.

 

He felt himself starting to chill as sweat slowly dried on his skin, and he wondered if he could summon the energy to pull the blanket over himself before he fell asleep.

 

With heavy eyes, he gazed straight ahead, taking nothing in. 

 

He would have drifted off right then and there, had it not been for the sound of the room's only door being opened. From out of the dark corridor appeared Hunith. Her eyes scanned the room quickly before spotting Merlin and she all but ran over to him.

 

“Oh my boy…” She sat gently on the bed besides him, reaching a hand out to run it through his dark hair, and brushed it back from where it had become plastered to his skin.

 

Though Merlin had managed to summon enough energy to remain awake, he had none left to try and explain what happened, not that he could have done a very good job at that; confused as he still was over what had happened.

 

It turned out that he did not need to speak. In her examination, Hunith noticed the two silver bands sitting innocently on her sons thin wrists. She gasped, the sound making Merlin frown as he picked up on her fear.

 

He curled his fingers into the palms of his hands, his magic swirling inside of him in agitation, but he finally forced his mouth to work.

 

“Tired.” His eyes had almost closed as he spoke, and Merlin vaguely felt like he was sinking into the soft mattress of the bed.

  
The mattress shifted a little, and he heard a slight creak as the frame protested the movement. He did not open his eyes back up from where they’d fallen shut, but he knew his mum had laid besides him, and whilst he knew he wasn’t really safe, he suddenly felt so.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Merlin awoke naturally to a sunlit room. He rubbed a hand across his face, deciding he felt a lot better now, though there was still the slightly cold and uncomfortable feeling of his magic trapped under his skin that the bands caused.

 

He sat up and finally took the time to have a look around the room. The bed he was sat on was massive, with four white pillows sat around him. On the other side of the room was a bookcase, every shelf completely filled with books of various sizes and colours. His mum had recently started to teach him how to read, so he was extremely curious about what was in them.

 

With effort, he pulled his attention away from the books and continued to observe the room. There was a desk set up in one of the corners with all the equipment someone would need for paperwork stacked neatly on one side. There was also another table, surrounded by six comfortable looking chairs.

 

Mesmerised as he was by his surroundings, Merlin didn’t notice that his mum was no longer in the room with him. He was startled when the door to the room was opened and in the entryway stood a man.

 

Seeing the stranger suddenly made Merlin aware of the fact that he was completely alone in the room. His fingers curled into the fabric of the bed sheets, and he prepared to try and make a break for it. He bit his lip in an unconscious show of nerves.

 

The man fixed his eyes on Merlin, distaste for the peasant clear in his expression. He stared for a few moments, moments that only served to unnerve Merlin more and more.

 

"You will come with me," the request was delivered impassively. 

 

Instead of moving Merlin just stared. The man stayed silent, watching Merlin watch him.

 

After a couple of minutes had passed, the man finally entered the room, his patience at an end. 

 

At the action Merlin finally sprung from his seat, hopping onto the floor, and leaving the blanket in a mess on the bed behind him. His fear for what would happen overrode every other thought.

 

He peaked over the top of the bed and watched as the man approached. His eyes roved over everything trying to decide the best way to get away.

 

He made a split-second decision and charged forwards, intending to duck around the table and then make for the door. Unfortunately he was still wearing his socks from the day before and that coupled with the smooth stone of the floor meant that he was sent sprawling forwards onto the ground. 

 

He was trying to scramble back to his feet, but before he was even half way there, he felt his shirt being grabbed ahold of. 

 

The fabric bunched up behind him, seams digging in when the man started to lift him into the air.

 

His feet and hands flailed as he tried to get away, but soon enough he was lifted beyond reach of the ground. He cried out as an arm slipped around his waist. He felt the arm tighten around him, and he kicked out and backwards trying to dislodge the hold.

 

Unfortunately for Merlin, the man had no tolerance for trouble and retaliated by squeezing tighter around Merlin’s waist. He used his other hand to clamp down over Merlin’s legs, trapping them against his body.

 

Merlin was not deterred and continued to tug on the man’s arms with his hands, though he only succeeded to tiring himself out.

 

~

 

The pair of them arrived quickly at the throne room, and Merlin was set down in the centre. The man who had carried him there retreated to the side.

 

He leaned backwards a little to sit down, but failed and ended up falling instead. He glanced around himself, eyes large and nervous as he took everything in. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear away the last of his drowsiness.

 

Merlin sniffed just as Cenred rose from his chair, and seeing the king move he froze, hand halfway to returning back to rest on his lap.

 

The king crossed the room in a few short strides, and Merlin had barely managed to scoot backward a few paces on the floor before Cenred reached him.

 

Dark brown eyes locked onto blue ones, before a hand reached out take a gentle hold on Merlin’s chin.

 

Merlin remained transfixed, as if the king had cast his own spell keeping Merlin locked into place. His fingers were surprisingly gentle on Merlin’s skin

 

“I’m sorry I had to hurt you yesterday.” He brushed his thumb across Merlin’s chin before sliding his face away.

 

He had been unable to pull away when Cenred touched him, but once the contact was broken, Merlin shuffled back a few paces.

 

Cenred watched him with a calculating gaze, but made no move to stop him.   
  
“It’s for your own safety.” A slightly tanned hand reached out, tapping twice on one of the bands. “I know you have probably been told to never use your magic, but with the help of these you’ll be able to learn to control it. To get it to do exactly what you want it to do.”

 

Merlin couldn’t help the hope that spread through him at those words. The power under his skin had recently started to scare him.

 

“Really?” He poured his hope into the words. The smile he got in reply was large, and if Merlin had been older he would have known it was altogether much too pleased.

 

Merlin pushed up from his seated position and leant forwards, eager to hear all Cenred had to say.

 

The king smiled back. “Of course. I even have some people who can teach you.”

 

Merlin nodded, curious to hear more. Besides the lessons his mum had given him in the few spare hours she could grab around her busy day, there hadn’t been a chance for Merlin to just sit down and learn things.

 

“I like learning things.” It seemed like a good thing to say, and Merlin got another smile from the king in reply.

 

“Well then, we will get you started on your lessons in a few days.”

 

~

 

It was almost odd, not being carried around the castle, but Merlin decided he definitely prefered walking. He was being lead by Cenred who had started to endear himself to the boy.

 

“I want you to pay attention to the directions to your room,” Cenred said. His words where phrased like an order, but they lacked the commanding tone that would normally accompany them.

 

Merlin nodded, and pulled his face into a serious expression to show he would try his best.

 

When they arrived back at the room, the first thing Merlin saw was Hunith, who was inside and sat on one of the chairs at the table.

 

“Mum!” He pulled his hand from Cenred’s grip without a thought, and ran straight over to hug Hunith’s leg. She placed her hand on Merlin’s head, tangling her fingers into his hair, but she did not look away from Cenred.

 

Merlin hummed, content to be back with his mum.

 

“I will have some food sent up, and tomorrow you can begin learning.”

 

Hunith’s eyes widened in dread, but Merlin took no notice, instead turning from where he was pressed up against her and offered a smile back to the king.

 

“Thank you, sire.” Hunith managed to keep her voice level, as she continued to not break her stare.

 

Once the door clicked shut, Merlin pulled back a little from his mum with a slightly confused expression on his face.

 

“Why weren’t you here earlier?” His bottom lip stuck out slightly, at the sudden fear that his mum didn’t want him anymore. He withdrew his hands from where they were still wrapped around her leg, and instead twisted them into the fabric of his shirt.

 

His lips were pressed tightly together to stop any outburst of nerves.

 

Hunith had grown extremely good at reading her son, and easily guessed what sort of thing he was thinking. She got down from where she was sat, kneeled in front of Merlin so she was eye level with him.

 

“You know I love you Merlin?”

 

His eyes widened, and he nodded furiously, not wanting to disappoint her. “It’s not a trick question Merlin. I just want you to remember in case something happens.” His expression morphed into one of almost abject worry.

 

“What’s going to happen?” He asked quietly, the words slightly muffled around his hands, which he had clasped in front of his face.

 

“Hopefully nothing, but where we are now is a lot more dangerous than Ealdor ever was.” Hunith tried to explain to Merlin her worries without upsetting him. She watched his expression carefully and could tell that he only sort of understood her point.

 

“No use worrying now. How about you tell me what you talked to the king about?” She rubbed his shoulder and dispelled some of the tension there, as he began to recount what had been told.

 

~

 

He hadn't tried to use his magic since the cuffs had been put on his wrists. He had almost gotten used to the strange emptiness that came hand in hand with the cuffs, and was mostly just curious if he could still direct his magic even whilst being unable to feel anything but a patch of cold deep inside. 

 

He peaked up at his mum, who was still fast asleep in their shared bed, having been worn out the evening before. He knew she would disapprove if she found out, so he attempted to be as quiet as he could. 

 

He looked curiously around the room and wondered what he could try to get his magic to do. He spotted a neatly folded blanket sat at the top of the bookshelf, and thought about how the nights were starting to cool. He pressed his lips together and concentrated. 

 

Nothing happened at first, and the emptiness inside of his chest remained that way. Scowling, Merlin concentrated harder, pushing all his thoughts towards the blanket until he started to go red in the cheeks. 

 

Just as he thought he would fail, he felt something cool brush his mind. Hope filled him and he pressed his intent toward the cold, and was rewarded with the comforting warmth of his eyes glowing as his magic escaped.

 

The blanket slid forwards a small amount, but not enough for it to leave it's spot.

 

Merlin’s head snapped backwards, as he felt a brief rush as his magic managed to surface, before it was clamped violently back down by the opposing magic of the cuffs. His eyes landing on the ceiling for a second, he found himself suddenly unable to remain standing. His legs gave way, and his body quickly followed, impacting hard against the ground. 

 

His head hit against the floor, forcing him back to the present and he realised that the cuffs had started to heat up as he had called his magic forwards. Now though, the metal had just a residual warmth that was rapidly diminishing. 

 

He blinked slowly, waiting for the ache in his head to lessen before he sat up, eyes instantly going to the cuffs. They appeared exactly the same as he remembered them. All that was different was the skin where they rested was slightly pink from the heat. He supposed if he had tried something bigger, than the heat would have been greater and he would have risked injuring himself.

 

Staring up at the blanket he pouted at his failure. Deciding that he’d best not try again to use his magic, he stood up and hurried back over to the bed, where amazingly his mother had not been awakened. He brushed a hand through his hair and flinched as he nudged the bruise that must surely be forming. He climbed slowly and carefully back under the blanket and snuggled close to Hunith, trying not to touch, and distrib her. 

 

He hoped the pain in his head would go away if he took a short nap. His eyes fluttered closed and the moment his head touched the pillow he was out like a snuffed candle.

 

~

 

It didn't take very long for the pair to get settled in the castle. They still shared the same room, Merlin being small enough that no one even thought to mention it. Whilst they weren’t allowed out of their room without being escorted by one of the guards that was permanently posted at their door, Merlin had still learnt his way around the majority of the castle. 

 

Merlin’s curiosity proved to be a large annoyance to the guards that usually had to watch the child. They were often left to chase after him as he expended the seemingly unlimited energy young children seemed to have.

 

There had been a few times where Merlin had gotten into trouble. After he had run off in his determination to see all the new things, he had actually managed to escape the sight of the guards. It was never for very long though.

 

His punishment for when he did escape was always for him to be confined back in his room for the remainder of day, and depending on who was on duty that day, either a whack upside the head or a quick slap.

 

There was a small group of servants that were tasked with bringing their food and tidying the room. Merlin had tried to talk to them at first, but they had all ducked their heads away from him and remained silent.

 

The lack of people to interact with outside of the formal lessons he had to undergo, along with the lack of people of a similar age left Merlin feeling lonely.

 

The only person he was really friends with was his mother. He hadn’t even seen another child since he had arrived. The only people he did get to see where people living and working within the castle, all of them adults.

 

He ended up becoming much closer to his mum as a result. When he was back in their room with his mum he tried not to bug her too much. But because the amount of time he actually got to spend with her seemed to diminish each day, he found that the times he did get to interact with her often resulted in him keeping her up much longer then she would have otherwise have liked to be.

 

She never told him off or made him go to bed. Well…almost never.

 

~

 

Merlin sat in silence, waiting for one of the servants to come and clear up his lunch plate.

 

He swung his legs back and forth under his chair. The tips of his toes could just brush the carpet if he stretched, but otherwise they floated obstruction free.

 

Blue eyes were focused intently on the ground when the quick knock came. He looked up, used to the type of greeting now. At first each person knocking had startled him, now he was just mildly curious.

 

A male servant entered, his head ducked, so that Merlin could not make out his facial features. Staring, he watched as the servant collected his plate and left without speaking a word.

 

Merlin sighed loudly, he just wanted someone to talk to. He Let his eyes fall back to the floor, and remained silent.

 

He listened to the man’s soft footsteps, tracking his progress around the room mentally. He considered trying to talk to him, but he could not think of the words to even begin. Deciding instead to just go for it rather than thinking too much he spoke.

 

“What’s your name?” He looked up as he said it, eyes finding the servant straight away.

 

The servant on the other hand had his back to Merlin, and had frozen at the words. The silence between them stretched onward, Merlin waiting for an answer.

 

Finally the servant turned, his head down.

 

“I don’t think this is very appropriate, sir.”

 

Merlin pouted at the response, his eyebrows narrowing, before he spoke again.

 

“I just wanted to talk to you, what’s wrong with that?”

 

“Nothing, it’s just not appropriate.” His words were clipped, and with a flurry of movement he had collected the dirty dishes and was out the door.

 

~

 

Merlin's inability to read when he had first been brought to the castle was something Conon had used as one of his first excuses to severely punish the boy. 

 

After a week learning to read with the nice but strict court scribe, Conon had fetched him from his chambers after lunch and taken him forcefully from the room. He lead him halfway across the castle to somewhere he had yet to explore.

 

They had arrived at a door that looked very uninviting to Merlin. Not as uninviting, however, as the inside of the room looked once the door was pulled open. If he had been given a choice, Merlin would have never entered.

 

But he had no choice in the matter, and was dragged in by Conon’s grip on his hand.

 

Inside it was dark, despite it being midday. There was a nagging feeling of foreboding as he entered as if the room was trying to warn him of what was to come.

 

The older sorcerer had then directed him to sit in a chair in front of a table, upon which sat a massive book with yellowing pages.

 

Looking away from Conon, Merlin turned his eyes to the book, squinting at the cramped text on the two pages that were currently visible. He could feel eyes on the back of his head as he mentally tried to figure out the letters.

 

“Read this.” A large finger descended from behind Merlin landing on the top of the right page.

 

Merlin bit his lip as he stared at the first word.

 

“Cu- Cume, he...r- Ah.” He stumbled through the first two words of what he realised must be a spell of some sort. He tried to form the sounds that composed the third and final word of the sentence with his mouth, but no matter how much he tried he could not work out how he was supposed to pronounce it. The weight of Conon’s eyes on him made him fold and attempt it anyway.

 

“Fi, ummm… Fire? No umm-” He closed his mouth pressing his lips together as he failed to work out how to even start the word correctly.

 

Only just holding in a flinch as a heavy hand landed on the back of his chair, Merlin drew his shoulders close.

 

“Read it again,” the words where practically growled out.

 

“C- C.” He swallowed audibly. “I don’t know how to.”

 

He didn’t know what to expect as his punishment, but it certainly wasn’t to be hauled from his seat up under the arm of Conon and the carried out of the room.

 

Suddenly terrified, he screamed as he was carried through the castle and down towards the dungeons. 

 

People turned to watch as he was carried, but not even one person made an attempt to stop what was happening. 

 

They didn’t actually go into the dungeons, but stopped near them. There was a solid blackened wood door with no window, looking as a dungeon door would.

 

It was only when Conon spoke a short spell and the door clicked, that Merlin noticed that the door had no lock. Merlin renewed his struggles as the implication of this set in.

 

Inside of the room it was almost pitch black, Merlin’s hand tried to pull at the one of Conon’s that was keeping him in place, but his fingers couldn’t even get a proper grip. As they went into the room, Merlin’s struggles became even less effective as his hands began to sweat, slicked from fear.

 

Deposited in the far corner, he tried to crawl after Conon as he turned to leave. He had almost reached the man's ankles when he turned, aiming a glare down at the boy.

 

“You will stay in here for an hour as punishment for your inadequacy.”

 

Tears started to gather in the corners of Merlin’s eyes, he had never been left alone in the dark before.

 

“Please don’t, I’ll try again. I’ll do better this time,” Merlin pleaded, one hand reaching carefully out as if to grab ahold of the other.

 

“No second chances. That is something you will learn.” He leant down as he spoke, words steady and more cutting than if they have been shouted.

 

The slam of the door was echoed in Merlin’s head long after Conon had left.

 

~

 

Whimpering quietly Merlin shuffled along the floor, hands stretching out in front of him so he didn’t bump into something.

 

The sounds of his own breaths and of his clothes rustling were loud in his ears, almost making him flinch.

 

Fairly quickly he felt the rough stone of the rooms walls under the pads of his fingers. He trailed both hands across the wall, unconsciously mapping it out, before he turned and pressed his back against it.

 

The silence seemed to press in at his ears. He covered them with his hands trying in vain to stop the feeling. He tucked his knees up as tight as he could under his chin, arms slotting nicely in at his sides, as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

 

He tried to take slow and steady breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating, each puff a warm tickle as it brushed past his forearms.

 

He jammed his eyes shut after they kept trailing around the room without a focus, but even under closed lids he could still feel his eyes roving. At least he could pretend that it was not because there was nothing to see.

 

~

 

He was completely thrown from his normal concept of the passage of time. His tears had dried up ages ago leaving him with slightly damp cheeks. It could have been hours for all he knew instead of the one promised, but the next thing he knew for sure was the sounds of footsteps outside of the room. 

 

He peaked over his knees, fringe obscuring his vision a little, but he hardly dared to move.

 

There was the click again as the door was unlocked.

 

Merlin tensed all over, having no idea what to expect.

 

As the door opened, and the light all but blinded Merlin, he narrowed his eyes trying to make out any details of the almost black silhouette he was presented with.

 

The figure entered the room, and some of the details started to resolve themselves. Wavy blond hair came into focus, and Merlin actually dared to look up.

 

The figure bent down so they were almost eye level with him, and reached out a hand.

 

“It’s all right. I’ll get you out of here.” It was Morgause, her voice was soft, something he had never heard from her in the short time he had been living in the castle.

 

He let his legs fall apart a little, so he could get a better look at her, and shifted his eyes from her hand to her face and then back again.

 

Tentatively he reached out to take her hand.

 

Chilled fingers brushed the palm of her warm hand, and he almost pulled away. But with a sharp exhale he slid his hand forwards until he could grasp her wrist and then allowed her to help him to his feet.

 

He almost fell forwards from the momentum, but a second steadying hand prevented that from happening.

 

“Thanks,” he muttered, eyes on the ground.

 

He felt a tug on his hand, and he looked up to see Morgause making her way towards the door, arm outstretched behind her. Hurrying to join her, he almost fell once more.

 

He had to shield his eyes when he exited the room at first, but slowly his vision re-adjusted to the light, and before he knew it they were back at his room with Morgause knocking on the door.

 

A slightly worried looking Hunith opened the door. She had been expecting Merlin to be back long before then. 

 

She physically deflated as her eyes landed on Merlin, but a few seconds later she registered that Morgause was also there, and her guard came back up.

 

“What-” she started to ask, but Morgause shook her head, and instead pulled Merlin into the room with her.

 

As soon as Morgause released his hand Merlin ran over to him mum, wrapping both arms tightly around her and hiding his face.

 

Morgause watched Merlin for a few seconds before meeting Hunith’s eyes and mouthing, ‘left in a dark room’ at her.

 

Eyes widening a fraction, Hunith nodded, then gave Merlin a hug back. The next time Hunith looked up Morgause was gone.

 

~

 

Merlin did not then see Conon for the rest of that week. Something that the boy was extremely relieved about.

 

After the incident where Morgause had to fetch Merlin, his mum had asked him lots of questions trying to understand exactly what had happened. He didn’t know how she had found out, but it appeared she knew approximately what Conon had done to him. 

 

He hadn’t wanted to talk about it at first, worried that he would appear as a coward. It was only after Hunith had asked several times that he finally told her.

 

She had hugged him and told him that being scared had not been something he should be ashamed of, and he had nodded, just managing to hold the water that filled his eyes at bay.

 

He had been almost despondent once he had calmed down. Any time he was in their room he spent it lying facedown on the bed or sat in one of the chairs, staring blankly ahead.

 

~

 

Two weeks later and Merlin was back with the book in front of him, having spent his  lessons  for that week learning how to read with someone who worked in the library.

 

“Well?” Merlin flinched slightly at the voice behind him, and he licked his lips before focusing on the letters. His tongue clicked as he mentally formed the words and opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Cume hay f-forbearnar.” His pronunciation wasn’t perfect, but at least he managed to get the words out. He chewed at the edge of his lip, worried about whether his slip was enough to warrant a punishment. 

 

That question was quickly answered was a sharp knock to the back of his head.

 

“Ouch.” His hands flew to the back of his head, gently holding on to protect from any following blows.

 

“Read it again.”

 

Merlin slid his eyes to the side, trying to spot Conon before he read the sentence once more.

 

“Again.”

 

He read the sentence out loud again and again. After the first few times Conon added pointers to correct Merlin’s pronunciation of each of the sounds. The effectiveness of a spell hinged not only on the power of the sorcerer casting the spell, but also on how well they were able to articulate their intentions. The best way to do that, of course, was to get the spell correct.

 

Finally the older man was satisfied with Merlin’s answer when asked.

 

“Now that you have finally worked out how to read the spell, you shall now actually cast the spell.”

 

His eyebrows narrowed, as his mind instantly went back to what had happened when he had used his magic the other day. His hands drew together, thin fingers twisting with nerves. His head ducked slightly, so he was just staring up through his lashes. Conon watched the young sorcerer in silence, carefully categorising his reactions.

 

“Tried already?” His grin grew larger, relishing Merlin’s discomfort. “The difference, my dear boy, is that I can allow you to have access to your magic. Of course that also means I can stop it from hurting you when you attempt to use it as well.”

 

Merlin stayed silent, stomach twisting, with his eyes glued to Conon.

 

“It’s the most effective way to control other sorcerers. Prevent them from accessing their magic, unless one of those in charge allows them too, and make it painful for them to even try without permission.” He grinned, locking his hands together. “I suppose the magic you tried was something small, so whilst the backlash would have been painful, it is nothing compared to what would happen if you tried some proper magic.” He didn’t elaborate, but really there was no need to. They both knew perfectly well what pain the cuffs were capable of. It wasn’t a stretch to realise that the pain level could increase, and that the extreme heat could cause physical damage.

 

“So, I want you to cast the spell, and direct it at the fireplace.”

 

Merlin jerked his head in the direction of the fireplace, eyes landing on it with interest. He had up until this point dismissed it, but looking now he could see it was built with thick slabs of stone. Clearly it had be designed to handle more than the average fireplace.

 

He almost jumped as a tiny warmth spread through the cuffs, but managed to restrain himself as the heat became sort of comforting, rather than painful.

 

“Do it.” There was a sharpness to the words, that made Merlin unwilling to disobey.

 

Turning back to the fireplace he raised his hand. He took a few breathes, still wary of the pain he’d felt the last time he had performed magic.

 

Finally he spoke the words, and pushed as he would normally to use his magic, even though he had still lost his ability to feel it.

 

The expected pain never came. Instead fire spread from the palm of his hand like a thread, landing in the fireplace where it grew, and quickly began devouring the few small logs that sat there.

 

Amazed that he had performed the spell on his first attempt, Merlin almost missed Conon speaking.

 

“Very good. I knew you had it in you.” 

 

A large hand was suddenly on his, making Merlin recoil, though he couldn’t get far. The dry skin felt uncomfortable against his own, and only made him want to retreat further. 

 

Conon leaned in closer, so close that his breath tickled against Merlin’s cheek.

 

“Before you know it I’ll have you leveling entire castles.” Merlin didn’t fully understand the tone behind the words, but he did know that he didn’t like it one bit. He was limited by being sat on the chair almost wedged against the table. Conon’s grip had not let up, but he still tried to edge away pushing his feet against the footrest on the chair as they could not reach the floor.

 

“You still have a lot of training to go still, but soon...” A hand was on Merlin’s face before he could duck out of the way, and he froze.

 

That seemed to be all Conon was intending to do, however, as the sorcerer gave his cheek a tap and then withdrew. Even as the man stepped away Merlin kept himself frozen, scared Conon would change his mind and come back.

 

~

 

Having escaped out into the corridor, Merlin wrapped his arms around himself. His skin felt dirty and he had to consciously work to keep from scratching at it to try and cleanse it. Beside him stood the guard in charge of keeping an eye on Merlin for that day. The man remained stoic, almost appearing to ignore him.

  
Merlin glanced over his shoulder, he could just see the door to the room with its dark wood as imposing as the first time he had seen it. Quickly turning away, Merlin increased his pace wanting to get back to his mum as soon as he could.


	3. Chapter 3

Hunith worried at her lip as she followed the servant that had been sent to fetch Merlin and herself. She squeezed the hand with which she was using to hold Merlin's trying to give him some sort of reassurance. 

 

There was an answering squeeze in return, which made her look down. He was growing quickly, but Merlin was still significantly shorter than her. 

 

He sent her a small smile as if he could read her thoughts just from her expression. She offered a smile of her own back, comforted by his attempt. 

 

The servant had lead them to the great hall, just seeing the doors made Hunith apprehensive once more. She pulled Merlin close as they came to a stop, ignoring his questioning look. 

 

She had no idea what she was expecting to see inside of the room but it certainly wasn't Cenred sat alone but for one servant that stood just behind him.

 

As they were taken inside she noticed that along with a place set for the king there were two more spots set up for dinner. It took her a moment but she realised those spots were for herself and her son. This was so far off what she had been expecting that it threw her thoughts completely for a loop. 

 

She could feel his eyes on them, or more specifically Merlin, so she tried to act as confident as possible. 

 

"My lord," she greeted, bowing her head. Beside her Merlin copied the action. 

 

"Merlin, Hunith. I'm glad you could join me for dinner." His voice was light as if speaking to friends rather than the family he’d had kidnapped. 

 

The servant pulled out the two chairs sitting to the right of Cenred, clearly an invitation to take their seats. 

 

As they sat down, two other servants appeared bringing with them three plates of food and a jug filled with something for them to drink. 

 

Next to her Merlin murmured with excitement, he had never seen half of the foods now being set down in front of him. Hunith herself had to admit that there was a few items she did not recognise either. 

 

"I hope you'll find the food to your liking," Cenred said returning attention to himself. Hunith looked up, briefly meeting the king's eye, before she had to look away. 

 

Merlin had dug into his food with unhampered enthusiasm whilst Hunith picked at her food, distrustful of why they were there. 

 

Silence reigned for a few minutes before she could no longer keep her curiosity to herself. 

 

"Why are we here?" She had expected that Cenred may take offense at the question, but to her surprise he just looked amused. 

 

"I thought this would be a great opportunity for us to get to know each other." The words were said so calmly she almost believed them, but it hit her that he just wanted to use this time to try and gain Merlin's trust. 

 

She could feel the colour leaving her face as she turned towards Merlin, seeing him happily munching on a slice of bread that had meat of some description sat on top of. 

 

It had not occurred to her before that Cenred might know how to play this when it came to a child, but now she knew how wrong that assumption was.

 

As she whipped her head back around, dread filling her, she was met with a smile and the tiny raise of an eyebrow that told her he knew what she was thinking. 

 

~

 

As Merlin's lessons continued; keeping him to a tight unbending schedule, Merlin himself grew more and more restless. 

 

A rigorous structure such as the one he found himself following was better suited to someone much older then him. 

 

He was left antsy, with too much pent up energy and no way to expel it. At every opportunity he could grab he would stare out of the window, wanting with every fibre of his being to be out there rather than inside. 

 

His behaviour went unmissed by no one, most especially the guards in charge of looking after him. 

 

Though they could never admit it they both felt sorry of the child. Forced from his house and then squashed into a role he was too young for. 

 

The pair of them had only recently taken over the duty and they knew that those that came before them had taken no small amount of pleasure in disciplining Merlin for his child like actions. With that knowledge burned into their brains, they made sure not to punish Merlin for acting like a child and instead tried to allow him a few tiny freedoms such as letting him stand at the window just a minute longer. 

 

That was all they could do though, except for hope someone would allow him to be a child, before his innocence was lost completely. 

 

~

 

Blue eyes seemed to glow with excitement as he was lead by his pair of guards out of the castle into the training grounds. Not having been outside of the castle since he had been brought there, Merlin could barely contain his happiness. Before leaving Ealdor, he had spent countless hours running around outside.

 

It didn't occur to him what exactly he was being taken outside for. 

 

As they stepped out into the sun, Merlin turned his head up. The warm air seemed to caress his skin, and his eyes flicked closed.

 

"No stopping." Merlin looked up, over his shoulder at the grunted words, eyes now wide.  Turning slowly away again, he continued down the short flight of steps, and all but trotted across the courtyard. 

 

The only other people in the courtyard were soldiers, and as Merlin and the guards passed by they stopped what they were doing and stared. 

 

Merlin didn't notice this at first, but once he did, he slowed his pace and ducked a little. The stares seemed to pierce through him, and he almost wanted to cover his head. 

 

His presence in the castle and his purpose was clearly known, though the boy himself hardly understood. 

 

Even with the actions of the rest of Cenred's men putting a damper on his mood, once they had exited the courtyard he started to relax once more. 

 

From there it was a quick walk out onto the flat grass that was the training grounds. Normally full of knights hard at work, it was now empty of all but a few targets that had been left set up at one end of the field. 

 

Arriving, Merlin was suddenly overcome with the urge to start running around. He took a step towards that end but was halted by a voice. 

 

"I really wouldn't. If I were you." The words were said casually, but Merlin could identify the owner of the voice anywhere. It make him stop, almost wanting to curl back in on himself though he knew it would do no good. 

 

Instead he decided to just confront the speaker and just get the inevitable over with.

 

He met Conon’s gaze dead on despite the height difference.

 

“Feeling confident today, are we?” The older sorcerer’s deep voice was mocking, as he broke Merlin’s gaze and walked out into the field.

 

The man nodded at the pair of guards, sending them to go stand at the edge of the field out of the way.

 

Merlin crossed his arms, not sure exactly what to expect but knowing it would not be good. He didn’t speak however.

 

“Today we shall be testing out what you have learnt so far.” Conon rubbed his hands together in a sort of glee. He walked down the grass towards the set of targets. “Lets see… How well have you learnt that spell to throw bolts of fire?”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened and his lips parted. He knew he could do the spell, his magic seemed to take to any spell involving fire extremely quickly. He was just worried about having to perform with an audience. Up until now he had only had to use his magic in the company of those who were instructing him.

 

“I can do it,” he almost ground the words out. Conon cast him a look of contempt, tilting his head away.

 

“Show me then.”

 

Merlin kept his eyes on Conon for a moment more, almost expecting the man to pull something, but when nothing seemed forthcoming he turned to the target and lifted his hands.

 

He felt the sharp spark that he had come to realise was the restrictions on his cuffs being lifted, and concentrating on his intentions, cast the spell.

 

A small ball of fire formed in the palm of his hand, before in the next second it launched across the field in a smooth arc. It landed directly in the centre, flames spreading out to cover the entirety of the target. For a second Merlin worried that it would catch fire, but the flames just dispersed as they pulled away from each other, leaving just a small trail of black smoke to fly away into the sky.

 

“I’m impressed, Merlin. You’re learning faster than I ever thought you could,” Conon said, breaking Merlin’s concentration.

 

Scowling, Merlin dropped his hand and crossed his arms.

 

“Ah are you going to throw a strop now? You hardly look like much. All skin and bones. But it’s an advantage really, you can gain people's trust easily and then when the time is right...” The sorcerer left the ominous statement hanging.

 

Merlin’s eyes had grown wide and his arms had stopped gripping at his sides. He almost wanted to scream a Conon. He wasn’t a bad guy, he would never betray anyone that was nice to him. He held his words back instead, rather than rising to the bait.

 

“Seeing as you did so well with that first spell, why don’t we try another?” Conon said, striding close to Merlin. “How about an ice spell, to complement the fire?”

 

Nodding quickly Merlin lifted both hands this time, narrowing his eyes at the target and casting the spell.

 

Again he performed it perfectly. Instead of a ball, a spear of ice manifested from his hand, shooting straight and crashing with a loud thud into wood. The ice stuck up at an angle, drips already beginning to run down it as the bright sun started to melt it.

 

The soft background chatter that was normally associated with people going about their day to day lives suddenly stopped. Heads turned towards the source of the noise and consequently Merlin.

 

There was about a minute of just silence, before everyone started talking at once. The sound made Merlin duck his head again.

 

“Looks like people are curious about you.”

 

The words brought no comfort. Instead they only made Merlin feel even more on display.

 

“Everyone knows of you, you were never meant to be kept a secret.”

 

Though in the very back of his mind Merlin had always known that he was viewed by most as just a weapon for Cenred to use, all that that entailed had not really hit him. Stood here now however, he felt the full weight of everyone’s thoughts and expectations. It made him want to return to his mum, but he knew he couldn’t risk running.

 

“No need to be shy, let’s get back to your practice.”

 

Merlin blew his cheeks out, annoyed at being called shy, but did nothing to disprove the term.

 

“No more of this throwing things. This time lift the target.”

 

He was startled at the request, lips parting a little as he looked at the solid wooden structure that sat before him. Knowing it was a challenge, he decided to meet it head on.

 

Exhaling, he kept his hands where they were, and instead narrowed his gaze at the target and abandoning the need for a spell. It took a few seconds, in which nothing happened, but suddenly the target was levitating. At first it rose slowly, inching up as if something were slowly tugging it upwards.

 

It reached about a metre off of the ground and then stopped.

 

“Impressive.” Despite what was said, it wasn’t a compliment. Conon’s tone was bitter and promised Merlin would pay for basically upstaging him. “How long can you keep holding it though?”

 

Initially he had used his annoyance to help him perform the magic, but then it had started to wane. He was left to struggle against a weight that he didn’t really have the magical strength to lift yet.

 

Sweat started to break out across his forehead, and as each second passed, he felt the strain increase. Eyes narrowing, Merlin could feel his hands starting to tremble. In an effort to stop them he clenched his fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

 

A pain began in his head right above his eyes, but he didn’t let up on the spell.

 

“You look like you’re struggling there. Why don’t you drop it already?”

 

He was clearly trying to goad Merlin, and being the stubborn child he was, he let it get to him.

 

His arms tightened around his stomach, fingers abandoning the thin fabric of his shirt in favour of holding his sides.

 

The pain in his head increased, and he could feel a few drops of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. He itched to wipe the drops away but didn’t dare break his concentration for even a second.

 

The target began to drop where he still held it up. Merlin’s strength was draining rapidly and he was going red in the face from effort.

 

Hunching fowards a little over his arms, the gold in Merlin’s eyes flickered, dimming slowly as he exhausted his magic.

 

He was vaguely aware that his shaking must be visible to everyone watching, but he could summon no effort to care. His vision started to blur and with a sudden crash the target dropped back down to earth, and Merlin along with it.

 

He groaned into the grass, before rolling his face to the side. There was a snort from behind him, and he knew it came from Conon.

 

“You need to work on your magical stamina.” 

 

Merlin dragged his arms out from under himself, and placed his hands shakily on the ground. He pushed up, but was trembling so much he only managed to get a small way up before he ended up back on the ground.

 

His breaths were fast and uneven and his eyes had closed.

 

A hand was suddenly on this arm, pulling him back to his feet. As he straightened up a wave of quick dizziness made him shut his eyes and take a deep breath. Once he was feeling less unsteady, he turned to see who the owner of the hand was and was taken aback to see it was one of the knights that had been hanging around watching.

 

The knight’s brown eyes watched him for a few seconds, making sure that Merlin could stand up on his own, before he retreated, looking around with a slightly guilty expression on his face for having helped the sorcerer.

 

Merlin watched for a few seconds until the knight was on the other side of the field, then he took a hesitant step forwards. He teetered slightly, almost losing his footing. His limbs felt heavy and he knew he really overused his magic and was now close to being exhausted. 

 

It took him a long while with many pauses, for him to try and catch his breath, but eventually he made it back to his room. 

 

~

 

As Merlin's ability to read and harness his magic using spells improved he was challenged to use harder and harder enchantments.

 

He had  struggled with them initially but now was mastering them within a few days. Something which brought much glee to Conon, who at times acted as if Merlin were his warlock to do as he pleased with, rather than Cenred's. 

 

Most of this behaviour was kept behind doors and walls where only Merlin was witness, but Edwin and Morgause were also privy on a semi-regular basis. Edwin more than Morgause as the man was more involved in Merlin's tutoring.

 

Edwin happily played along with this, seeing nothing wrong with what the sorcerer did. Morgause, on the other hand, who disapproved of how Cenred went about training Merlin, was far from happy with how Conon treated him. 

 

She’d had to take Merlin back to his room sobbing and shaking after Conon had ordered him to have three lashings from the castle torturer's whip. It was something no child should ever be subject too, particularly one so fragile looking. It was something she would not forget in a hurry. 

 

She had broached her concerns with the king, and whilst he had agreed that gaining Merlin's trust would ultimately work greater to their advantage than breaking him completely, he had done nothing to change Conon's behaviour.

 

Morgause had therefore taken it upon herself to keep a look out on Merlin, making sure he didn't suffer too much, or that Conon didn't do something rather more permanent. 

 

Privately, she also felt a strange affinity with the boy. Probably relating to how his situation now mirrored hers just a few years ago. 

 

Her fingers lightly touched the single cuff she wore as her thoughts continued to drift. 

 

Given the choice she would not work for a man like Cenred, and whilst she had more freedom than she knew Merlin would ever experience under this king, she was still chained to his side just as strongly.


	4. Chapter 4

He had been roused early from his sleep, and denied his breakfast, and as a consequence was feeling particularly grumpy.

 

He didn’t understand why, even as a rapidly growing twelve year old, he wasn’t allowed to eat more. His stomach was almost always complaining–something that affected his concentration during his lessons. He had tried a few times to ask about getting food, but was always shut down by everyone.

 

All but skulking down the corridors, arms crossed tightly over his chest, Merlin almost radiated annoyance. Other people he encountered on his way gave him a wide berth, not wanting to tempt his sour mood. 

 

Arriving at the location for his session with Conon, he knocked sharply on the door, adopting the posture of someone who just couldn’t be bothered. He waited for the door to be opened.

 

There was of course no greeting from Conon when he did eventually open the door. 

 

Merlin took his usual place at the sole chair in the room. He noticed that the book he had been presented with was different to all the others he had seen before. This one was smaller, and the cover was not a boring brown colour, but rather a rich purple.

 

Carefully he reached a hand out to stroke the the edge of the cover. It felt smooth under his fingers.

 

For some reason Merlin couldn’t draw his attention away from the book, even as behind him Conon began speaking. He didn’t even notice when the other man stopped speaking, until he felt a sharp smack to the side of his head.

 

He blinked and shook his head to refocus, before glaring at back rather than saying anything. He made sure to watch Conon this time so he wouldn’t miss anything that was said.

 

“I will repeat myself one more time.” He crossed his own arms, standing squared off with where Merlin sat. “You shall be performing a spell from his book. The spell is one used to cause extreme pain.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened, and flicked back to the book for a brief second. His grumpiness was soon forgotten as he watched Conon. 

 

Conon moved across the room towards the servants door, and Merlin’s eyes followed, dreading what it was that the other would be retrieving.

 

He unlocked the door, then leaned out of it, saying something that Merlin couldn’t catch from where he was.

 

Conon then pulled back, dragging with him a little girl, who could not have been more than six years old.

 

Inhaling sharply, Merlin clapped both hands in front of his mouth in horror.

 

“You shall be using her to practice on.”

 

Merlin shook his head slowly, trying to back up from where he was sat, though there was no where for him to go.

 

“No…”

 

“If you don’t do it then your mum will suffer.” Conon was wearing an almost sadistic grin now, his grey eyes all but lighting up. His hold on the girl’s wrist tightened and she flinched.

 

Merlin shook his head violently, fear plain on his face.

 

“You can’t!” he cried out, jumping up from his seat. Merlin got no answer but a snap of fingers, to which the servant’s door opened again and a guard walked in dragging a rope-bound Hunith along with him.

 

“Mum!” Merlin shouted, as he tried to run to her, but was stopped by the sudden appearance of a magical force field. It gave off a grey glow as Merlin made contact with it and it sent him stumbling backwards.

 

His back crashed into the chair forcing a cry of pain from his mouth.

 

Panting heavily to suppress the pain, he pushed himself back onto his feet.

 

Behind the shield Hunith struggled against her binds, shouts to her son muffled behind a piece of fabric that had be shoved into her mouth.

 

“Do what I ask, and I’ll let your mother go, unharmed.”

 

Merlin’s expression crumpled as he stared at his mum. He didn’t want to lose her, but there was no way he would ever be able to hurt a innocent child.

 

Tears spilled from his eyes, and he trembled all over. He continued to stare into his mum’s eyes even as his vision started to blur through the liquid.

 

Hunith could always read her son so well, so she knew exactly what was going through his head as he stood there.

 

As they continued to make eye contact, she nodded her head. He shouldn’t have known what she meant by the nod but he did. He nodded in return, and  as more tears trailed down his face he spoke.

 

“I won’t do it.” Though he meant for the words to come out strong and clear, he knew his voice wobbled, but he managed to make his point. 

 

Conon jerked his chin-up in surprise. Merlin hazily realised that the sorcerer must have thought he was almost completely dependent on his mum.

 

“So be it.” The words were final, and they struck a pain in Merlin’s chest.

Until now he had been supporting half his weight on the back on the chair behind him. But as his mum’s body crashed to the floor with a dull thunk, he felt all his strength suddenly leave him, and he ended up on the floor as well.

 

He didn’t feel the pain that the fall would have undoubtedly caused. In fact he felt nothing at all, a numbness spread through him as he tried to process what had just happened. His eyes faced blindly forwards, seeing nothing at all, and his earlier trembling changed into full-on shakes.

 

Slowly cold began to creep into his extremities, heightening the numbness that he already felt.

 

He would have stayed there, on the floor, frozen but for the uneven pattern of his chest as each breath stuttered out, had it not been for the guard bending down to pick up Hunith’s body.

 

The moment the man’s hand touched Hunith, Merlin was on his feet again. His magic that had fallen even farther away than it normally was these days, suddenly rushed forwards. The initial contact was cold, but as more and more of his magic poured forwards it began to warm. It gave him the strength he had been lacking earlier to even hold himself up. The bands burned on his wrists and and his eyes lit up.

 

He was vaguely aware of the pain of his magic crashing against the restrains. He pushed again and again, and slowly but surely created cracks in the barrier.

 

Gold flared into life in the space around Merlin. The air pressed out from where he stood, causing the room’s other occupants to freeze. The guard look positively terrified, ready to make a break for it any second, whilst Conon looked stupefied that a boy could somehow bypass the suppression bands, and that his magic could manifest so much. The little girl managed to break free of Conon’s grip once the sorcerer’s attention was taken away, and she ran as fast as her tiny legs could carry her straight out of the room.

 

Golden trails whipped about as if being blown in the wind, licking at the walls but causing no damage. Merlin took a step forwards and the guard took a step back from Hunith. Seeing this, Merlin ran to the body of his mum, dropping to his knees beside her.

 

His hands hovered over her, unsure if he should touch her. After a few seconds deliberation, he steeled his jaw, and let his hands land lightly on her skin. It was still warm.

 

A sob worked it’s way out of his mouth, and his tears renewed themselves, dripping down his face and onto Hunith’s own.

 

A noise from Conon had him whipping around to glare in that direction. Under the heavy gaze of Merlin and his magic the other seemed to wilt, freezing in place for the briefest of moments before he began side-stepping towards the door, giving the guard a push as he reached him.

 

Now alone, Merlin collapsed forwards, face resting on his mum’s stomach, and arms trying to encircle her and pull her as close as possible. He allowed full blown sobs to wrack through his body.

 

His magic began to dispel, having been given no specific direction, and the suppressors began to drive it back where he could not reach it.

 

~

 

Morgause found him passed out over Hunith’s body more than an hour later, the combination of stress and forcing his magic into action having left him beyond exhausted.

 

She had hardly known what to expect when Conon had sought her out to explain that her favourite little warlock had gone mad, and that she would have to deal with him.

 

He had, of course, neglected to inform her that the reason Merlin had thrown a fit was because his mother had been killed in an attempt to force Merlin to do something.

 

She shook her head as she stepped around the downed chair, pausing a moment to observe the scene before her. She had never intended to get attached to him. But she couldn’t help finding herself looking out for him in a capacity of more than just making sure he wasn’t injured to the point of permanent mutilation or death.

 

She pursed her lips and bent down to pull the boy off of his mother. He came easily, completely floppy in his unconscious state, showing no sign of waking even after being moved.

 

After extracting him from the body of his mother, she paused to consider the best way to get Merlin back to his room. She hardly wanted to be seen carrying him through the castle, and getting someone else to carry him was pretty much out of the question, lest the rumour mill start running.

 

She narrowed her eyes deciding a bit of magic and the servant’s route was the way for go. She waved her hand and with a quick word Merlin lifted from the ground as if he was being supported by a blanket. She directed him towards the door, and left.

 

~

 

When Merlin woke up in his bed the following morning, it took him a while to remember what had happened the day before. Waking up alone in the room had long since stopped being unusual, so initially he had assumed that Hunith was off doing whatever it was she did.

 

He made to throw the blanket back, blinking in confusion as a sudden pins and needles feeling spread through his limbs. He wiggled his fingers staring down at them, as the feeling was strongest there, when it hit him what had happened the day before. His wrists were bruised blue and black under the cuffs, though he felt none of the pain that usually accompanied injuries like those.

 

His whole body froze up, and his throat felt tight. Each breath he took was a struggle as they forced their way into his body.

 

Minutes passed with him just sitting there in bed, until his vision began to blur and grey began to creep across everything he saw, slowly muting everything.

 

~

 

He hadn’t been allowed the opportunity to grieve properly, being forced back into his routine almost immediately. 

 

He appeared to radiate a black cloud of emotion wherever he went. No one tried to bring him out of his mood as everyone knew exactly what had caused it, and that really there was nothing anyone could do to make it better. 

 

Without his mum around Merlin felt his loneliness all too keenly. Returning always to an empty and cold room. Even if some servant had lit a fire before he arrived, it never did anything to shake the chill in his heart. 

 

He thought about trying to reach out to someone, one if the servants maybe, but even though they were slightly more accommodating than they had been before, they still all carried that look of fear–Not like it was Conon that had killed his mother after he refused to cause someone else pain, but as if they thought he had deserved to lose her. 

 

Their distrust only made him feel worse. His only consolation from the ordeal was that his lessons with Conon, for now at least, had ceased and Edwin had taken on the task. The other man, whilst clearly in possession of his own mean streak was a few classes below Conon when it came to forms of punishment. 

 

It was never physical damage, always something magical. It was, in fact, during one of Edwin's lessons that he discovered that the cuffs could be used to cause pain even when he was not trying to access his magic.

 

It seemed that the cuffs could twist the small cold trickle of magic still within him and turn it into what felt like an ice shard, ripping his insides apart. 

 

Everyday he looked forward to when he would no longer be held under these men. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was weird for Merlin to arrive at the throne room  _unescorted_ . He was so used to being monitored wherever he went. He lifted a hand to open the door, but paused just before he touched the wood. His eyes skittered to the right, alighting on the corridor that he knew lead away towards the main entrance of the castle. 

It had been a long time since he had been presented with the possibility of escape. Not too long ago he would have taken any opportunity to get away, but now... All that would be waiting for him out there was fear and hatred. Though those that had directly been witness to the acts Cenred forced him to do were limited, his reputation as misinformed as it was, was very far reaching. To perpetuate his reputation, the king had ensured that the fact Merlin was slave to his whim was a closely guarded secret. After all, if people thought the most powerful sorcerer they had ever seen choose to follow Cenred of his own free will then what hope would anyone have to oppose him?

He shook his head, stopping at the door to the throne room before knocking. It was less than a minute before the doors were pulled open, and Merlin could enter.

=

Inside sat Cenred and Edwin. Conon was not present which was a surprise to Merlin who had become used to seeing the man everywhere.

He ducked his head a little as he came to a halt in the middle of the room, knowing that the king required him to show deference even when they were alone.

“Ah, Merlin,” Cenred said smiling across at him in a way that made him feel edgey. He had no clue as to why he had been called, and was apprehensive to learn the answer. “I’m sure you are wondering why it is you are here.” He paused to wait for Merlin to look up and nod. “I thought now would be a good time to get you to show me how your training is progressing.”

“Of course, sire.” It seemed like the correct thing to say. Merlin straightened up squashing the glimmer of nerves at the back of his mind.

Cenred’s smile only grew larger at Merlin’s words.

“This won’t be just a case of you performing spells for me. Instead, Edwin here shall be performing the test.”

Merlin let his eyes fall on the scarred sorcerer. The man had his hands pressed palm to palm in front of him, and he appeared to be studying Merlin as if he was not a boy but some sort of experiment.

“The process is similar to how you were discovered when you were a child, but it will not be as pleasant.”

Though Merlin could barely remember anything of his time before he had been brought to the castle, one thing he did know was that his discovery had not been  _pleasant._ He would never voice that thought aloud, though. He realised that this test would probably be uncomfortable at the very least, but more than likely it would be pretty painful.

He tightened his jaw, and braced himself for what was to come.

~

Cenred rested his chin on his hand, his brown eyes fixing themselves on Merlin’s thin form. He was mildly surprised at how tall the boy had grown, especially considering how restricted his diet was, which was made extremely evident by his build, and only made more so by his height.

He regularly conversed with his sorcerers and so knew, according to them, how Merlin’s training was going. As much as he knew none of them would lie to him, not out of loyalty, but rather because they feared him, he wanted to see the powers he had control of with his own eyes.

Having explained the process to the boy, Cenred could see that he was anxious about it. He pulled his eyes away from Merlin, just long enough to nod at Edwin before returning to looking at Merlin. 

He was barely aware of Edwin moving in the edge of his eyeline, so much was he focused on Merlin.

Edwin reached out to touch Merlin’s forehead. The instant he touched the boy’s head, Cenred saw him stiffen, not sure whether it was a reaction purely in preparation for what was coming or if Edwin had started already.

A few seconds later and Cenred knew for sure that Edwin had started as Merlin’s eyes screwed shut and his whole demeanor radiated discomfort. Neither of the pair moved for what must have been about a minute. Cenred debated saying something as his short patience almost reached it’s end, but then Edwin began to speak.

Cenred himself knew nothing of the language that was used to cast magic, but he did recognise the way it sounded.

From where he was sat he could just see the gold light up Edwin’s eyes, before the sorcerer closed them.

He hadn’t thought it was possible for Merlin to get any more tense, but he did, tendons on his neck standing out under pale skin. The boy whimpered quietly before he bit his lip in an effort to stave off the sound.

It was a surprise to him to realise that he admired the boy’s ability to endure. He continued to watch with a smile still on his face as Edwin stepped back, hand still raised.

Nothing changed until Edwin had taken about five steps away, at which point Merlin’s eyes flew open and the warlock cried out. His eyes were glowing as if he was performing magic. Unlike the usual glow, this one was flickering and not the usual gold, but rather an almost sickly looking yellow, stained with an undertone of green.

Cenred was transfixed by the glow of Merlin’s magic, he almost missed that Merlin had bitten through his lip and there was now a small well of blood forming.

Edwin who had already stopped incanting, spoke up.

“I’m drawing all of his magic out so I can test its limit.”

Cenred grunted in acknowledgement. Edwin had long since come to realise that his king didn’t care much for the specifics, all he really wanted to know was if it was doing as he wanted.

A ragged gasp suddenly came from Merlin, the boy’s mouth falling open as his head fell back. Cenred could see that Merlin’s eyes had closed though the glow was still visible between his eye lashes.

Edwin lifted a hand and Merlin blanched, the little colour he had on a normal day gone, leaving him looking almost like a dead body. The light of Merlin’s magic intensified, and Edwin’s hand began to shake.

“There’s so much power there, I can hardly keep ahold of it,” Edwin said, voice strained. Cenred sat up straighter extremely interested in what he was hearing and seeing. Normally Edwin had no trouble measuring a sorcerer's power levels, the task always appearing easy and simple. To see him struggling so much meant that Merlin harboured a strength much greater than any he had seen previously.

Temours started traveling up through Merlin’s frame, they forced a few weak whimpers from between his lips.

Merlin’s skin began to glisten, his magic breaking free. His pale skin gained a slightly gold hue, matching the glow from his eyes.

The air started to grow heavy, a buildup of pressure like Merlin’s magic was too big for the room.

Glee filled Cenred. He had never felt anything so powerful before, not even from Morgause. His thoughts were already racing with the possibilities for what he could do with all that magic.

Just as abruptly as the glow of Merlin’s skin started, it stopped, leaving just his eyes. Edwin closed his hand into a fist and Merlin’s head instantly dropped to his chest. It appeared that he had been completely drained. Edwin was panting as he broke the spell.

As the glow faded, Merlin seemed to wilt even further. Previously tense muscles went suddenly limp. He wouldn’t have be shocked if the boy collapsed where he was stood.

“His magic is stronger than I could have possibly imagined.” Edwin stumbled backwards as he spoke, finding the nearest bit of wall to lean on.

Cenred knew he was staring, but he could not pull his eyes away. He was fascinated. Leaning forwards he watched as Merlin sank to his knees as if in slow motion. The boy’s head remained facing downwards as he slowly curled forwards, threatening to faceplant the floor at any moment.

“He has more magic than he did when he was a child, I can’t even imagine how much he will have when he reaches adulthood.”

Not bothering to grace Edwin with a response, Cenred rose from his seat walking slowly over to Merlin, who was tilting dangerously forwards. Stopping beside him, Cenred bent down, eyes trained on Merlin’s features.

Both blue eyes were closed and the king did wonder if he was even aware of anything happening around him. He reached out and almost touched Merlin’s shoulder. He stopped just a few inches away from actually touching him. He almost didn’t want to make contact with the magic that he had just witnessed.

Straightening back up he turned to Edwin, running his eyes over the sweaty form of his sorcerer.

“What’s your verdict?” He spoke plainly, like he hadn’t just seen a display of the power for himself.

“It’s raw, untrained… And there is so much of it...” Edwin’s voice was slightly harsh, belaying his tiredness.

There was a dull thump from behind him, which had Cenred spinning quickly to see what it was, only to find Merlin now collapsed sideways on the ground. The shadows in the room gathering in the sharp angles and lines of his face. 

He knew Merlin was young, barely into his teens, but looking at him now all loose limbed and fabric swamping his frame, he appeared so young. There was a tiny spark of guilt at the back of his mind. He squashed the feeling hard, before addressing Edwin once more.

“Get him back to his room and make sure he wakes up. I don’t care how you do it.” Order dealt, Cenred strode from the room without a backward glance.

~

The shock of cold forced him back into consciousness with a violent gasp. He tried to sit up, but his muscles screamed in protest. Falling back into his prone position, he puffed out a breath trying to dislodge the water covering his face, which he realised was the source of the cold.

The second thing he was aware of was the pain in all of his muscles. Similar to the pain one gets after over exercising, though he knew that was not the case. 

Swiveling his eyes to the side they landed on Edwin who was leaning in close from his seat at the side of the bed. 

“What?” Merlin goaned out, trying to slide away whilst also trying not to flinch as his body resisted any movement.

“The king asked that I make sure you were alright.” There was a slight hunger in Edwin’s eyes that creeped Merlin out.

What had happened in the throne room earlier hit him with a force that almost hurt, and he found himself jerking up into a sitting position despite his body's weakness.

“What did you do to me?” Fear spread across his features, and he stared with wide eyes under hair that was plastered to his forehead.

Edwin pulled away at Merlin’s outburst.

“I drew all your magic to the surface so I could see how powerful you really are.”

Mouth falling open Merlin stared at Edwin as he spoke, hardly understanding. “But... What?”

“Well, unlike the spell to detect someone’s magic, this one pulls it out, which can have some side effects. It also usually leaves the subject exhausted,” Edwin explained, voice taking on an impassive physician’s tone.

Merlin blinked a few times at Edwin, before his eyes travelled down to the cuffs. He wondered about how his magic could have be accessed so completely. Even with the use of his magic granted, surely the blocks would still hold it back from its full potential?

Fingers twitching against the smooth fabric of the bed, he filed the thought away for later consideration. Snapping his attention back to Edwin he aimed a glare at the older sorcerer.

“Now, now my boy. I tried to make it as painless as possible.”

“I am not  _your_ boy,” Merlin growled out, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh on the contrary, Merlin. We’re the only family you have left.” Edwin stood as he spoke.

Merlin flinched back at the reminder that his mother was dead. Pain temporarily forgotten, Merlin sat up straight so he was eye level with Edwin, and all but spat in his face.

“I would rather have no one, then have you as family.” If he’d had his magic he would have used it to push Edwin away, but as it was he settled for aiming metaphorical daggers at the man.

Reading his thoughts Edwin stepped back, intending to leave Merlin alone.

“You would do well not to test me. I may not be Conon, but I have methods of my own to make you obedient.” The passive expression that was his default fled, leaving a sneer. “Besides, I think we’ll find you’ll change your mind soon enough.”

Merlin wilted as the door closed with a click. He almost ended up on his face, but at the last second he pulled himself to the left and instead flopped onto his back. He uttered a weak groan, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion.

Rolling his head to the side he spied the polished glass of his mirror. Normally it was tucked out of the way as he had no desired to see himself. It appeared that perhaps a servant had moved it whilst they were cleaning.

Now he found himself drawn to it. It seemed to almost give off it’s own light in the dimly lit room. He had to stretch his neck to finally get a glimpse of himself.

Pale skin looked almost grey, especially against the black smudges under his blue eyes. Each breath came slow against the ache in his body.

Sliding his right shoulder down he rolled onto his side, and tucked his legs up towards his chest. If he hadn’t hurt so much he would have wrapped his arms around his legs. Edwin’s words rang in his head. Though Hunith had been dead for a few years now, he realised that he had never really accepted that she was gone. It had almost been a case of just waiting until he was free of Cenred’s hand and then she would suddenly be back.

There was a stinging at the edges of his eyes, and he twisted his fingers together. His eyes stared blankly ahead, not seeing anything in the dimly lit room.

Rarely did Merlin find himself feeling so emotionally vulnerable, despite how often he found himself at the mercy of others.

There was no one who he could confide in, let alone just talk to. 

He’d been lying there for a few minutes, and would have continued to do so if it hadn’t been for the slight draft, brought on by the beginnings of winter that left Merlin shivering. With what felt like a huge effort he pushed himself upright and somehow managed to get the blanket that had been under him over himself.

He made sure the blanket was pulled right up to his ears and that all of the edges where tucked nicely in to prevent any more drafts.

Reaching out carefully he probed at the spot he had learnt he needed to search if he wanted to find his magic. Though normally the cold feeling of his magic under the restraint was unpleasant and made him feel very uncomfortable and unsettled, he desperately hoped that he would feel it.

Closing his eyes to concentrate better, he finally reached that point within him and tensed as he found nothing.

Panic latched onto him, and it took all of his remaining strength to hold the panic back. Pressing his thoughts even deeper he finally felt something.  With the cuffs in place his magic always felt a lot weaker then he knew it was, however now–now it felt so insubstantial he could hardly believe it was his own magic he was feeling.

The panic fled as he rationalised that his magic would recover itself given enough time. 

Sleep seemed like a good idea, but for some reason he could not summon the motivation to actually do so. So he resigned instead to just letting his mind wander.

~

Cenred, Edwin, Conon and Morgause were sat in the council chambers. Cenred was at the head of the table with Conon and Edwin to his left and Morgause to his right.

Everyone was silent, the sorcerers waiting for their king to speak and Cenred himself was still deep in his thoughts.

“Why is he so powerful?” The question was startling, something none of them were expecting.

“The boy?” Edwin asked, as if it wasn’t obvious exactly who they were talking about.

“Yes, Merlin,” he answered even though it was not necessary.

“He’s a warlock, that means he’s able to perform magic instinctively,” Morgause cut in. Her training with other high priestesses as a young child giving her the benefit of knowledge that the others did not have. Cenred raised an eyebrow at her, tempting her to expand on her point.

She rolled her eyes across everyone’s faces trying to gauge what they were thinking.

“Unlike how we as sorcerers have to harness and use magic, he  is magic, it’s flows through his body like blood does through ours.”

Silence and widened eyes followed her statement. Each person had a different expression. Conon’s was the most troubling as he didn’t even make an attempt to hide his delight.

“So what does that mean in terms of how much use he is?” Cenred asked. He had noted everyone’s reactions as well, though he made sure he was less obvious than Morgause.

“Because his magic is so closely linked to his life force, he can pretty much keep going until his death.” She took a pause before continuing. “The other side of this is that after large amounts of magic he will be more physically drained then an average sorcerer.”

“That is useful to know, thank you, Morgause.” He drew out Morgause’s name a little to highlight his pleasure at her.

He saw her cringe just a tiny amount at the comment, which only made him happy. Bringing one hand to his chin, he leant back in this seat, before deciding on his orders.

“Edwin, Conon, you both are to step up Merlin’s training. Push him as hard as you can. If he’s not struggling to get up the next day then you haven’t been working him as much as you can.”

“Yes, Sire,” Edwin responded, ever polite.

“I’ll make sure he’s stronger then you can ever imagine.” Of course Conon was relishing in his permission to cause suffering.

“You’re all dismissed.” He waved his hand to compliment his words.

Leaning even further back in his chair he watched with amusement as Edwin and Conon both hurried from the room, each for very different reasons, leaving just Morgause. As she made to leave as well he called out.

“Morgause, would you be so kind as to wait a moment?”

She didn’t really have an option, though he phrased it as such.

“Sire.”

“I know you want to protect the child, but if you interfere I have no qualms about punishing you too.”

She gritted her teeth, but said nothing and nodded, following the others out of the room.

~

Flattening himself as much as he could against the cold wall behind him, he kept his eyes glued on the angry man in front of him. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, he was almost surprised that each beat could not be heard.

Ducking to the left he felt the pressure of the air as a fist collided hard with the patch of wall that had been behind him until about a second ago.

Black hair flopped into his eyes, and he had to shake his head to clear it, not wanting his vision hampered for even a second.

“Get back here!” Conon’s voice boomed through the small room. In response Merlin shuffled backwards, trying to get his feet under himself so he was no longer vulnerable on the ground.

Succeeding in standing and quickly fleeing to the other side of the room, Merlin dragged in great lungfuls of air. Across from him Conon had spun around, face red with his fury. The older man made to approach Merlin once more, so the boy slid along the wall, aiming to put the rooms only table in between them.

Figuring out what Merlin was going to do, Conon abandoned his conventional attack, and instead raised his hand, bringing his own magic into play.

The gold of the other sorcerer’s eyes consumed his vision and suddenly Merlin felt a pressure around his neck. His own eyes bulged, and his hands flew to his throat wanting to pry away something, anything so he could breath. They found nothing.

Air whooshed noisily into his lungs, each breath no longer enough to fill them.

The joy on Conon’s face when Merlin managed to focus enough to see, sent tremors of fear through him. He clearly had no intention of letting Merlin go anytime soon.

As a haze of grey began to descend across his vision, and he could feel his feet starting to slip. If Conon’s spell hadn’t been keeping him up-right Merlin suspected he would have fallen to the ground already.

Growing desperate he turned to the only thing he had left to use in defence. Magic. Casting his mental grip deep inside of himself he searched for the tiny cold trace that his magic still gave off.

Finding it easier than he had expected, his eyes lit up. The gold brighter than it usually was, just because of the ferocity he put behind the magic. He had no idea what his magic would do, he just wanted it to help.

A faint golden glow manifested in the room. The very air seemed to shimmer for the briefest of moments, before all at once that beauty turned violent

The gold charged at Conon, whilst Merlin bit his bottom lip until it bled, trying to hold in a scream. Conon was thrown into the wall behind him, landing with an almighty thump, grey eyes finally closing.

When the other sorcerer fell unconscious, Merlin dropped to the floor as Conon’s spell disappeared.

The impact as he hit the ground had him biting straight through his lip. Spitting out the resulting blood, he emitted a few high pitched whimpers and curled in on himself. He wheezed, touching his throat lightly. It felt very sensitive, and he knew within a few hours his skin would be black and blue as evidence of the event. 

Both his arms ached with a pain he couldn’t describe. Peeling his eyes open he squinted down at his wrists, flinching and gasping so that his lip smarted, at the sight of his blistered arms. He wanted to give into the pain and slip into the dark nothing of unconsciousness, but in the back of his mind he knew that he could not stay there.

He tried to control his breathing, anything to distract from the pain in his body. Shuffling around he searched for Conon’s body, relieved to find it still motionless. He didn’t think he had killed the other man, rather just knocked him out with the blow against the wall; at least he hoped he hadn’t killed him. Though the man was abhorrent, he didn’t relish the thought of killing anyone.

His lungs worked rapidly trying and almost failing to take in enough oxygen. His throat felt tight, like he was still being strangled by the spell and it made him want to cough. He stamped hard on the feeling, knowing the act would only end up causing him even more pain.

Reassured that he was safe, at least for now, Merlin shakily sat up. He gently prodded at his split lip with his tongue, hissing as it stung.

Knowing he needed to get away before Conon did rouse, he used the wall to pull himself to his feet. He inched along, not trusting his legs to hold himself up without assistance.

He almost doubled over and ended up back on the floor with his first step, but gritting his teeth he managed to stable himself.

Reaching the door, he eased it open, cringing at the creak of the hinges.

Now outside in the corridor he slumped against the closed door. He kept control of his breathing and held his hands up, brows drawing together at how they still shook. His heart was still going rapidly and each breath still hurt to take.

A cough drew his attention, though he hardly noticed it. He must have been stood there much longer than he had intended to as he looked up and met Morgause’s gaze.

“Morgause! I umm-” Stuttering he pulled his hands behind his back and leant away from the wall slightly so he could stand straighter. “Ah- did you want something?” 

Morgause lifted an eyebrow at his almost pathetic attempt at covering up.

“I assume Conon went too far.” She wasn’t expecting an answer, knowing exactly what the man was like, she already knew. Lips parting, Merlin made to speak but any words he thought to say got caught before they could leave. He gave a weak cough as he drew in too much air for his body to handle quite yet.

Morgause shook her head, exhaling sharply in annoyance. “You’d better go see the physician, and then cover yourself up. Cenred would be displeased if you made him look vulnerable.” Her words were cold, but something in her tone made Merlin’s thoughts halt.

He nodded hastily as he realised that she was waiting for him to make some sign he understood. Even though he was starting to realise that Morgause would perhaps not punish him for small indiscretions, he thought it best to still answer her.

“Yes, Morgause,” his voice was scratchy and not yet recovered.

Maybe he could try and get on her good side?  It was clear she held a lot of power within the kingdom.

Satisfied, Morgause turned and walked away, her shoes clicking against the grey rock of the corridor.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin was bored. 

For all the many books that now stood neatly on the shelf across from him, he had absolutely no motivation to even flick through one, let alone read. Their slightly cracked leather binding stared back at him, teasing him with the knowledge that they held, even though he had already read most of them.

Unfortunately his selection of reading materials covered only a limited range of topics. Only things Cenred thought Merlin needed to learn to become a better asset for the king to use.

He pouted crossing his arms over this chest, and let his eyes wander over to the room’s only door, an idea suddenly occurring to him.

He stood, and walked quietly to the door, pausing just a moment before he opened it to listen outside. As he had gotten older his guard detail had been slowly relaxed to the point where often times there would be no one stationed outside of his room.

Hearing nothing outside he opened the door, and was relieved that he had been correct as an empty corridor greeted him. Hurrying out of the room and making sure to close the door, he headed quickly in the direction of the library. He kept his back straight and made sure to walk with a determined expression. He reasoned if it looked like he had somewhere he needed to be then other people would be less inclined to stop him.

It worked. The few servants he did encounter, spared him only brief glances–not that, that was unusual–but it happened less often for which he could not complain. 

It didn’t take him long to arrive at the library. The room was quiet when he arrived, and the inside was filled with countless shadows, all blending together across the floor and shelves in an indecipherable pattern. It made him slightly wary when entering, but nothing bad happened when he did and he dispelled the tension that he hadn’t even noticed he was carrying.

He stared openly once he was inside, completely overwrought by all the books he saw. His fingers itched to grab one and start devouring every bit of knowledge it contained. He resisted however, deciding it would be better to find the librarian first and get permission, lest just taking something ended with him being banned.

It took just a few minutes to locate the castle librarian, an aging man whose hair had long since lost all colour, and with a frame that belied this most stationary job. Currently he had his head bent over a thick and heavy looking tome, reading pages that were truly stuffed with tiny lettering.

Merlin stopped a few metres away from the librarian’s desk, waiting patiently to be noticed with his hands clasped behind his back.

A few minutes passed with Merlin standing in silence, trying not to rock back onto his heels, and the man did not look up. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he cleared his throat with a loud cough.

It seemed to do the trick. The man jerked his head up as if he had been slapped.

“You!” The exclamation as he identified who it was that was stood before him didn’t really surprise Merlin. People's expectations of him held almost no ground in reality but yet they continued to prevail. “What do you want?”

Deciding to ignore the rudeness of the question Merlin answered honestly.

“I was bored, and I thought that I could get something to read.” Brown eyes narrowed at his request. 

“Cenred had most of the books on combat magic taken to your room when you first arrived.”

Merlin had to hold back a sigh as he heard this. “I’m well aware, however I’m not interested in reading about combat magic. To be frank I’ve read enough about combat magic to last my whole life. Though that’s not something I really have much choice over.” He stopped talking as he watched the older man’s eyes widen in shock. He sighed and continued.

“Just because Cenred controls me doesn’t me I have to agree with his ideas. So can you tell me where I can find books on healing magic?” He was greeted with a completely flabbergasted expression, so he folded his arms across his chest and offered up his most disarming smile and waited.

It took a short while before the man finally shook himself out of his astonishment, but once he did he gave Merlin the answer he wanted.

“Down there, about six shelves and then left.” He pointed further into the room where the two large windows sat in the wall, casting rectangles of light into the room.

“Thank you,” He said as sweetly as possible. He realised he was enjoying the shock of the other probably a little too much, but just mentally shrugged. He needed some excitement in his life.

Finding a few books that looked interesting didn’t take long, and almost before he knew it Merlin was making his way back to his room.

With the books a comforting weight under his arm he found himself humming a nameless tune as he walked. He dialed down the volume the second he noticed but he couldn’t bring himself to stop completely.

~

That first lot of books quickly turned into more, and Merlin hungrily read through each new volume he could get his hands on. 

The librarian, who he had learnt was called Tilton had gotten over his surprise at Merlin’s interest in reading and accepted that he was not some power mad sorcerer. He became almost eager to show Merlin things he thought the boy would find interesting. As a consequence, Merlin found himself spending as much of his free time as he could in the library.

His desire to spend more time in the library was only heightened as a raid on his quarters had revealed a book he had hidden under his mattress that was not from one of his shelves. The book had been confiscated and as punishment he had gone without dinner for that evening. After that he had tried to do all of his reading within the library so that he could continue with his learning, and not have to worry about being found out.

His favourite place to read was on the windowsill of one of the large windows that looked out directly on to the training field, and further out to one of the forests that bordered the kingdom. 

He reveled in being able to sit in the sun, especially when he was confined to the inside for such long periods of time. And the company of the librarian, however awkward it could be at times, served to lift Merlin's mood whenever he felt low.

~ 

Merlin pulled at the collar of the black cloak he had been given to wear this morning, unused to the extra weight around his neck. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shift the sit of the fabric. Instead all he managed to succeed in doing was bunching the fabric up, so that it looked like he had thrown his clothes on that morning. 

Along with the thick, long cloak, he had been given a long sleeved black shirt. But unlike the clothes he wore on an average day, this one was made of much finer fabric. It was soft against his skin, and kept the breeze as he walked through the cloisters from chilling him as it would normally. 

He had also been given a pair of black gloves. But unlike the gloves you would commonly see, these ones extended long past his wrists, almost to his elbows. Although this could not be seen under the sleeves of his shirt, they covered the cuffs obscuring them from prying eyes. 

The gloves were decorated with a blood red ribbon, matching the kingdoms crest which spread across Merlin's chest. The ribbon was sewn from the tip of each pinkie, trailing down the side of his hands and up to the very end of the gloves under his sleeves.

He was taken to stand behind Cenred. The king was sat at the head of his council table, two of his personal councilmen sat to his left. Some minor Lord and his accompanying entourage was sat across from him in the remaining seats. Morgause stood at the other side of Cenred, giving off the vibe of danger. Conon was shadowed on the opposite side of the room, tucked securely out of the sight of the visiting men. 

It was the first time Merlin ever found himself being used as a bargaining/pressure piece, but it certainly wouldn't be the last. His role had consisted mostly of him standing silently, and receiving glares from the other sorcerers in the room when he started slouching. 

During the entirety of the negotiations, as he quickly worked out that's what they were, he could feel and see many sets of eyes measuring him up, assessing him. 

He worried slightly what Cenred had told the visiting nobles about him, though it was fairly easy to make a guess. That in mind, he tried to look as unintimidating as possible, though he was aware there was only so much he could do, silent and almost stationary as he was. 

The sorcerers were forced to remain for the remainder of the meeting, which ended in Cenred’s favour. Not that that was unexpected.

Merlin was prepared to leave after all of the visiting councilmen had exited, his shoulders slumping and his posture mirroring his weariness.

Making to leave however, he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. He almost ducked his shoulder out of the hold, but knew that was a bad idea. Turning he met the dark eyes of his king.

“Merlin.”

“Sire.” He tried to keep the disappointment about being kept back out of his voice.

“I shall require you to be present at more meetings in the future,” he said, finally removing his hand from Merlin’s shoulder. “I’m sure you understand why.”

Merlin knew no reply was needed, but he was almost tempted all the same. He did nod, however, making sure to keep looking at the king.

“You may go.” Merlin nodded again, and turned to leave, his cloak flaring slightly as he did so. “Oh, and Merlin. If you act bored next time I will make sure you are punished.”

He stopped mid step at the words, failing to halt a pained wince as he imagined the type of punishment he would have to suffer.

Hands twitching a little, he moved off again, finally leaving the room.

~

Merlin was sulking in his room. Arms crossed over his chest and a glare aimed down at the piece of paper in front of him. He was supposed to be working on his writing skills.

Cenred had decided that Merlin should be able to write should he ever been in the need to compose a letter or report, for him of course. Who else did Merlin have to write too?

However instead of working Merlin was holding a silent protest. 

He was tired of always being made to do the same things over and over. He just wanted to explore. Whilst he was allowed a certain amount of free reign around the castle, and even into the low town if he had an escort, what he really wanted to was to go into the forests that he could just see from his window. He missed nature, it had been months since he had last been away from the castle.

That was when Cenred had taken him along with his entourage to visit, and all but threaten, one of the lords on the outskirts of the kingdom. That was also the last time the king had used Merlin’s magic for anything. Of course Edwin, Morgause, and Conon had used his powers for other things since, but nothing quite so violent as what Cenred had made him do.

With nothing to distract him, his mind continued to wander back to that trip. He could still hear the scream as he let his eyes fall closed.

They had been unusual negotiations. Normally the nobles in question were pretty quick to roll over to Cenred’s demands, whatever they may be. This time however, even after some demonstrations from Merlin, the lord did not fold.

Cenred had only continued to apply pressure for a short while longer before he had lost his patience. In the end he had turned to threatening the lord's only daughter, and once that failed he’d had Merlin follow through on some of those threats.

The girl had been left without visible injury in the end, as the lord had given in very quickly once she had started screaming. But for Merlin, causing any pain at all, even if it left no permanent damage, was something that wore away at him in a way that felt as if he could never recover.

Sliding his eyes back open he squinted slightly at the brightness of the room, he really needed to find something to do. Pushing up from where he was lying on top of the covers on his bed, he pulled his legs underneath himself so he was sitting crosslegged.

Knowing he wouldn't be disturbed for at least a few hours and with his thoughts still lingering partly on that horrible time, he decided to work on stretching the limits of his magic and attempt to push past the block the cuffs imposed on it.

Starting small, he held out his right hand, eyes fixed on it, and tried to conjure a flame. Fire along with his ability to move things was magic he had always found easy to perform.

A fire flickered into existence in his palm, emitting a comforting warmth. The slight warmth of the flame was quickly drowned out as the cuffs kicked in. He was prepared for pain, but not on the level he received it.

Both his hands clenched into fists, and he drew them to his chest, trying to protect them. The action was in vain however, as there was nothing he could do to try and stop the pain, now that he had performed the magic. Whenever he had tried to cast a spell without someone giving him permission to cast it, he had not been in a position to see the cuffs and so had not realised that they glowed in response to the heat and the pain they were inflicting. 

For a second Merlin found himself almost transfixed as he saw runes light up along the band where there had previously been just a plain stretch of metal. The distraction was only momentary as the pain forced him to close his eyes and bite down on his lip, least he vocalise it.

Then suddenly the pain died away, the heat which used to hurt, became almost gentle in a weird paradox of what it had been just seconds before. The runes disappeared, leaving the metal smooth, but Merlin made a note of them in the back of his mind. Maybe one day he could figure out what they said and use that information to get them off. For now though, he was going to try another spell.

Choosing again a non-vocal spell like the fire one, he focused his gaze on a book that he had left out on his table sometime the day before. His eyes flashed gold and the book left the table. It almost made it to him, but the pain returned just before it could complete its journey.

He flinched folding in on himself, his eyes trying to close, but he forced them to remain open as thin slits. The book had fallen at the end of his bed, giving a thump as it landed. Merlin ignored it, he needed to learn to get past the pain, first and foremost. He would never get anywhere if he ended up passing out from the first large spell be performed.

Taking deep breaths, he slowly straightened back up feeling the pain start to diminish.

"That wasn't as bad as the flame," he muttered, pondering at the difference, and wondering why that was the case. Perhaps it was because the fire involved physically creating something whereas moving the book was just manipulating something already there.

He bit his lip, rubbing his wrists with his hands to try and get them to stop hurting. He wanted to try a spell with an incantation next. Not something big again, but definitely something. His eyes landed on the jug of water he had sat on the bedside table.

"Ice." The idea seemed like a sensible one. If he succeeded then he could use the ice to help his wrists, if not...well maybe best to try and succeed the first time and not think about it otherwise.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, and mentally recited the spell once, before opening his mouth and casting it. 

The water in the jug rose in a swirl, pulling out of the metal confines and forming a small sphere just above it.

“Ah.” Merlin flinched again, and almost lost his concentration. The sphere spiked as the magic holding it wavered, but with effort Merlin managed to hold onto the spell.

The water slowly froze over starting from the centre and spreading outwards. As it finished freezing, Merlin lost his grip on the magic completely and the sphere crashed to the floor, some of it splitting and shattering under it’s own weight.

Bent double Merlin pressed his forearms to the sides of his head and the top of his head to his bed.

Each breath he took clashed with the heat still radiating through him making them hurt. As the cuffs started to deactivate, his arms fell from where his hands still held them over his ears. His palms covered his eyes, and he pressed more of his weight down onto the bed.

He bore the pain silently, waiting for it to fade. Once it had, he sat back up and with shaking hands went to collect the ball of ice he had created. It almost slipped from his fingers as he grabbed it. Carrying it back over to his bed he pressed the ice alternately to each of his wrists, sighing at the relief it gave.

Sitting down again he suddenly realised how tired he felt. It seemed as well as causing him pain, using his magic with the cuffs on also drained him. He flopped backwards, glad, not for the first time, that Cenred had given him such a comfortable bed.

Rolling on to his side he stared at the rapidly shrinking ice ball. Blue eyes shifted out of focus, and his chest rose and fell slowly. He knew he needed to put the ice somewhere before it completely melted but before he could even move to put it out of the way, Merlin’s eyes had fallen closed and he had drifted to sleep. 

~

Merlin followed along mutely, not sure exactly what to expect of the summons. His eyes were glued on the back of the head of the servant who had delivered the message. 

As the pair entered the throne room, Merlin felt all eyes turn to him, the weight of so many gazes almost boring into his head.

Once the servant stepped out of the way, Merlin let his eyes fall on Cenred who was leaning back in his throne, limbs casually splayed. Though he tried to block the rest of the rooms occupants out, Merlin couldn't help that they fell into the periphery of his vision.  

The warlock halted, ducking his head at the king. 

"Sire." He got a satisfied smile in return. 

"Ah, Merlin." The soft murmur of the rest of the occupants died at the king's first word. "Some of my  _friends_ were curious as to the extent of your powers and the level of mastery you have over them."

So that was it, Cenred wanted to show him off. He hadn't missed the way the other man had imbued the word “friends” with a hint of sarcasm and disdain.

The purpose of this demonstration would be to show everyone gathered that Cenred held all the power here. This in mind, Merlin decided to go with the more flashy of tricks. They weren't always more powerful–in fact that was rarely the case–but when presented with people who knew next to nothing about magic, large demonstrations appeared more powerful. 

Nodding, Merlin held his hands out to the sides, both palms facing the ceiling as he waited for Cenred to release the hold on his magic.

The fleeting thought that just a few years ago he would have deliberately gone against the king's wishes, flashed through his mind. Nowadays however, Merlin would rather avoid the consequences of disobedience and just do as he was asked.

He felt the trigger of the block being released, and he let his eyes slide closed.

Fire sprang to life in each of his hands, the flames licking over his palms and up his arms but causing no damage. Around him he could hear exclamations of awe. With another thought he turned the fire green–the same colour he had noticed that one of the king’s friends wore along with his attendants.

There was a cheer from somewhere to his left, tempting him to open his eyes but he refused, instead making the flames grow higher and higher. He changed the flames to a purple colour, and then opened his eyes, just as each fire rose slowly from the palms of his hands.

He allowed himself a small smile as he clicked his fingers and the two flames transformed into fiery birds which flew gracefully out over the tables around him.

Men ducked as they soared overhead, though they were sat much too low for them to even feel the heat of the flames.

Flipping his hands over the bird disappeared and all eyes landed eagerly back on Merlin. He remained frozen for a second, building the anticipation, and then brought both hands together in one quick movement. He brought his closed hands to his mouth, blew once, and then pulled them apart. From between his fingers appeared a beautiful blue butterfly.

Everyone stared at the insect, and Merlin relaxed a little. Without the attention on him he whispered a quick spell and ice began to spread from his feet, the crystals within it drawing sparkling patterns on the ground.

Slowly people realised what was happening and chatter broke out amongst the guests as everyone pointed out what they could see to their friends.

As the ice reached the edge of the tables, Merlin halted it–he didn't want to get into trouble after all.

Thinking for a moment, he spread his hands out to the side once more, and spoke another word. The ice which had been still, gained a life of it’s own, gently shifting as if it were still free flowing water.

He focused and set the ice free of his control, watching in amusement as his magic did it’s job.

He waited for a minute more in the centre of the room, letting everyone have their fill of his display. He bowed to each table in turn, and then once to Cenred before he broke the spell and stepped out of the line of sight.

There were a few boos at him leaving but Merlin did not look back. 

He walked almost silently around the back of the tables, weaving in and out of the servants that were stationed there aiming for a spot behind Cenred’s chair.

The king spared him a quick glance and a nod to convey his satisfaction, before turning back and leaving Merlin to stand for the duration of the meal.

~

Eventually as Merlin grew older he no longer had to attend lessons and was expected to continue honing his skills on his own. It seemed he had enough of the king's trust for this, as well as being allowed to remain free from guarded escort whilst he was within the castle. 

The freedom was refreshing, but at the same time almost more than he could handle, having had structure his whole life. 

His first point of duty he decided was to test his limits. Standing, he strode across the room and out of the door without pause.

He wandered around the castle, finally coming to the great hall, which at this time of the day should have been empty. 

Shrugging his shoulders he opened the door and entered.

Merlin scanned the room, quickly spotting Morgause sat on a bench at the far end. The older sorceress didn't appear to have noticed his arrival, though he knew by now that, that often didn’t mean anything. 

He crossed the room, keeping his steps light, something that had become almost instinctive to him now. That was, of course, when his natural clumsiness didn’t decide to drop in.

She finally acknowledged him with a nod of her head, once he reached the bench.

He lowered himself slowly so he was sat directly next to her, he kept his eyes facing forwards. they sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the respite from their normally busy schedules.

Merlin leant forwards a little, staring at his hands.

“I used to wonder why you were so nice to me, you know,” Merlin said, as if it was the most casual of conversation topics. He glanced to the side, meeting her eyes, after she had all but whipped her head around at his words. “It took me a long time to work it out, but…” He rolled his eyes away, “you just wanted to gain my trust.” He looked back up as he said “trust”, almost challenging her to prove him wrong.

Merlin remained quiet, just waiting for her to respond in some way, but he paid close attention to each of her expressions.

She sucked her cheeks in a little, before she opened her mouth and spoke.

“Yes, that was my intention,” she straightened up. “I knew Cenred would not give any thought to how you were going to be treated by Conon. But I also knew that the best way to try and get you on our side would be to treat you well. To try and makes friends with you, where you had no one else.”

Merlin nodded, eyes falling closed. He debated for a few seconds on how to reply, before deciding.

“Whatever your motives. Thank you.” He offered up a humourless smile, which she did not return.

They returned to silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts.

In an ideal world he would have remained sat there for the whole day, the relative peace a much welcomed change to what his days normally consisted of. Unfortunately, of course not five minutes later, he was being called away.

Morgause gave no response as Merlin pushed himself up. He spared a glance at her, contemplating saying something, but decided against it, and instead turned away and left.


	7. Chapter 7

He stood to Cenred's right, head bowed so his fringe fell across his face. Biting his lip he stared out from behind the curtain of hair. 

He knew people were watching him. Whenever he was on public display people always watched him. It was like they thought he would do something to them the moment they looked away. 

He hated the lack of trust people had in him, but what really made him sick was the things people said about him when they thought he couldn't hear him. 

The words often haunted him at night when he was all alone in the darkness. 

Standing here now, a small few of the knights were aiming hard glares at him. They held an odd resentment for Merlin's position as the king's right hand man. 

An ache had started to develop across his shoulders where he was holding himself tense. He would give almost anything it be away from here. 

What he knew of Camelot was limited, his range of education being as narrow as it was. He had heard that magic was treated with suspicion and hardly somewhere he would want to be, but the thought of attacking, invading, and killing the citizens of another kingdom made his stomach turn. 

In a change from what he usually did, he made sure to pay attention to what Cenred was saying. 

The king was currently outlining his plan for them to break through Camelot's famous citadel.

Barely containing a jump as his name was mentioned, Merlin's head whipped up. His bright blue eyes suddenly very wide behind fly away, messy hair. 

Cenred sent him a look, clearly conveying the consequences in store for Merlin if he messed up. 

"Merlin here shall take out the walls, as well as be in charge of taking out any sorcerers Camelot may have on their side.”

His cheeks hollowed out and his hands clenched into the long fabric of his sleeves. The thought of Cenred making him kill anyone made him want to be sick. That was not something he could ever get used to.

He looked up and saw the faces of people that were eager to take over Camelot–eager to kill both soldiers and innocent citizens–and he wanted to run. He noticed that he had started to lean a little towards the door, without realising it, as if he was going to leave. He blinked quickly and straightened himself up, and resigned himself to listening. Perhaps he would learn something useful. He doubted it, but it never hurt to pay attention during these meetings.

~

Merlin leant against the wall in the corridor watching the proceedings with a slightly bored eye. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the stone. Everyone in the castle appeared to have one job or another that needed to be done right this instant. Everyone except Merlin of course.

He shook his head dislodging a few stray hairs that had fallen into his face.

A group of servants rushed by and Merlin had to pull his feet in lest he trip one. A few looks were cast in his direction as he tried his best to act as if he hadn’t seen them. It wasn’t like he deliberately chose to do nothing, in fact his fingers inched to go and help them, but he knew his assistance would be less then welcome. 

No, he was better off just waiting for someone to give him a specific job, despite what everyone else would think of him for that.

Crossing his arms over his chest he stretched his neck at little, wanting to get a look down the hall where a large group of servants were gathered. Merlin didn't consider himself stupid, not by any means, but he was very aware of the fact that his experience of things was very limited. That being the case he wanted to use this opportunity to try and discover more.

~

“Sire, our scouts have reported that Cenred is gathering an army to prepare for war.”

Arthur closed his eyes in resignation, it was news he had been expecting, but something he dreaded to hear. There had been rumors circulating for the past couple of weeks that the neighbouring king had started to gather all the able bodied men within his kingdom to join this army. So Camelot’s own army had been working on gathering as much intelligence about the goings on as possible.

He exhaled slowly, before opening his eyes once again, and looking at the messenger.

“You’re dismissed.” The messenger gave a quick bow, before turning and exiting the council chambers.

“So it is as we feared.” The statement came from Geoffrey, sat to Arthur’s left. Arthur simply nodded, he had hoped that the rumours would prove false. He turned to Sir Leon who was sat directly to his right.

“Meet me in my chambers after this meeting along with Lancelot and Gwaine.”

“Yes, sire.” Leon nodded his understanding.

“Allan, what have our spies reported back in terms of army strength?” Arthur turned to another of his advisors, mentally bracing for the answer he would receive. The man in question pulled out a sheet of paper from a pile he had sat neatly on the side of his desk.

“Knights, they have less than, but mercenaries have been spotted making their ways to the castle,” Allan said, eyes tracing the lines on the page he held. “Our main problem will he the sorcerer's Cenred has.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. Sorcery was not outlawed in Camelot. However, after Nimueh had betrayed Uther at his birth, she was subsequently run out of the kingdom. Following that, Uther had used any excuse to have other sorcerers either banished or executed. Any crime that they committed had the same harsh punishment whether it be stealing or murder. As such, those few sorcerers that had managed to stay on the good side of the law had made hasty exits under their own volition. 

As far as Arthur knew, the only remaining sorcerer–if he could be referred to as such–was Gaius. The old physician, however, had only a small amount of magical talent and it was mostly only useful for enhancing some of his medicines. Definitely nothing massive.

It was there also that the distrust people had for magic could be seen the clearest. Even though Gaius was trusted and one of the most long standing members of the king’s court there, every now and then a patient would request a magic-free treatment.

Arthur bemoaned the fact that he had failed to try and dispel the misconceptions surrounding magic. He just hoped that the he and the knights would be able to form some sort of plan for dealing with Cenred’s magic users.

“According to our in tell then, we still have both numbers on our side, as well as being the more skilled army.” There were nods of agreement at his words, and Arthur paused a moment before he continued. “Therefore, with careful planning we can overcome the threat that Cenred poses.”

Quiet murmurs of agreement echoed around the hall, and the king was satisfied that everyone was on the same page as him.

“Currently Cenred does not know that we know of his plans, and therefore we must use this to our advantage. A surprise attack of some sort will go a long way towards reducing our losses.” Arthur got more nods as people listened to his words.

The remains of the meeting was given over to discussing what to do about Cenred, every other topic put to the side for now.

~

Arthur sat at his table, hands steepled in front of his mouth and elbows resting on the wood. His eyes were staring straight ahead, though they clearly weren’t taking anything in, as his mind was miles away thinking on the problem of Cenred.

It had been decided that they would move their army out before Cenred had finished his own preparations in the hope that they would be able to take the other king by surprise. So far all their spies had reported back that Cenred was completely unaware that Camelot had any knowledge of the activity within the kingdom.

The aim was to get the Camelot knights as close to Essetir as possible, before they were discovered.

There was a quiet knock on the door, before it opened to show Lancelot. 

"Sire. I wanted to check in with you about what you had decided." He spoke with deference, something highly typical of the man, but it only made his next words feel heavier. 

“I will need you to go and inform the rest of the knights that they need to make preparations to move out in two days time.”

He didn’t look up at the sound of the door closing, instead he stared blankly down at the table in front of him, absently spinning the outer band of his ring. The movement served to help ground him against everything going on in his mind.

~

The clatter of cutlery being dropped onto the table roused Merlin from his sleep. Allowing his eyes to open into slits he saw that the sun had only just started rising, filling the room with a pale light.

He exhaled, rubbing a hand across his face to try and wake himself properly, but he remained lying where he was, enjoying the warmth of the covers around him.

“Sir?” If the clattering hadn’t hold him who it was, the question did.

“Tova, how many times so I have to tell you? I’m not a ‘sir’.” He rolled over so he could see the servant, who bit her lip sheepishly at his words. “You’re here earlier then usual.” He finally sat up, gratefully accepting the cup of water that Tova offered him.

“Umm, Sir, ah- Edwin requested yesterday evening that I be here early to wake you.”

Merlin’s eyebrows drew together as he contemplated what the older sorcerer could want. Usually if he was called early then it meant nothing good.

Finishing his drink, Merlin threw the covers back. He slid to the edge of his bed and stood up, his night shirt hanging from his thin frame. He wandered across to his table, hungry for whatever food he had been allowed today.

His eyes landed on the slice of bread and apple Tova had brought, and he resisted the urge to sigh.

He flopped into his chair, limbs loose. He supposed he couldn’t complain, at least he had food this morning, sometimes he got none.

Whilst he ate, he watched as Tova straightened out his bed.

He pondered on what it could be that he was being summoned for, deciding it was likely to do with Cenred's plans for capturing Camelot, and that he should probably just get there as soon as possible.

~

Once all of the knights had been assembled, they easily moved out from Camelot, the years of training that they had all undergone making them both disciplined and prepared.

Arthur rode near the front of the army, his most loyal and trusted Knights flanking him. He had wanted to ride at the head of the party, but as several people had pointed out, that would make him an easy target for any would-be assassins. As such, the knights had insisted that a few of them should be at the head to provide protection. 

They were lucky that the weather had been nice over the past week, so the ground was firm rather than muddy and hazardous as it had been not a month ago. 

Gwaine was chattering inanely over to the right, and whilst he would never show it outwardly, Arthur appreciated the distraction it gave him. If his thoughts had been allowed to continue their free reign he knew he would have driven himself into a depression over what ifs. 

Glancing casually at the knights surrounding him, he did allow himself a moment of reflection. He could not wish for a better group of people to be with then those he was with right now. He had never even considered that he would be so lucky with his men. 

He turned his attention back to the path ahead, determined that they would succeed.

~

They had managed to find a clearing large enough for the whole army, just less than a day's ride from Cenred's castle, and where the other king was gathering his force. 

There was a slight tension throughout the camp. Everyone was aware that these may be their last few days alive. On the whole, the knights knew to make the most of their time, without letting the pressure overcome them.

It was a few hours after they had stopped, almost all of the tents had been set up and the sky was starting to darken, oranges and reds permeating the usual blue above them. Noise levels were just starting to reduce, when a scout returned.

"Sire!" The man was dressed in plain robes, and came running into the camp from the East. "I need to speak to the king!" Between each breath he shouted, getting other knights to move out of his way. 

His arrival caused a stir through those that had seen or heard him, but Arthur was quick to make his own way out to greet him and usher him in, out of the way of prying eyes. 

He returned to his tent, with the scout now in tow, along with Leon, who he had waved over on the way back. Arthur made sure that his guards were in place to prevent anyone eavesdropping. 

Striding into the centre of the space, Arthur turned on his heel, eyes falling on the scout. He gestured to the few chairs set up towards the wall, knowing the scout would be tired and appreciate the opportunity to rest. 

The scout pulled a chair closer and dropped into it with a sigh.

"What do you have to report?" He spoke first, wanting to put the other at ease to speak freely. 

"Sire, I have just returned from king Cenred's castle." He took a quick pause, waiting for his king's nod. Once he received it he continued. "I managed to infiltrate Essetir's lower town, and discovered that Cenred had gotten news of our intentions yesterday, and is planning on moving his army out to try and cut us off."

Arthur's eyes closed briefly as he absorbed the words. He brought a hand to his face, curling it into a fist in front of his mouth. 

"Did you find out if Cenred knows where we are currently, or does he just know that we have left Camelot?" He needed to know as much as possible so that their next move could be planned to minimise their losses. 

For the next forty minutes Arthur discussed everything the scout had learnt and then formulated a plan with Sir Leon’s assistance. By the time he had finished his stomach was rumbling rather noisily.

After the scout had left, Arthur noted that Leon was holding back a smirk, badly.

“I’m sure you’re feeling hungry now, after we missed lunch.” Arthur tried to turn the situation around on the knight, who in response quirked his eyebrows upwards. 

“Of course, Sire.” He smiled a little at Arthur’s attempt to distract. The king smiled in return, thankful for the opportunity to relax even just a little.

Arthur and Leon sat together in the king's tent to eat their late lunch. Both trying to keep their minds off of the current situation.


	8. Chapter 8

It was total chaos. Somehow Cenred had managed to get his army within a mile of the Camelot encampment without being spotted, and from there he had launched a sting attack using some of his sorcerers.   
  
Too many knights had been taken out in the attack before they had even had a chance to arm themselves and try to fight back. But eventually, once enough of his men were armed they had managed to drive the attack back.    
  
Even now as he sat in his tent surrounded by advisors no one could determine exactly how Cenred had gotten so close.    
  
"It was obviously magic!"   
  
"But magic of that kind is completely unheard of."   
  
"Seems you heard wrong then."   
  
"While I may have no talent with it myself, my knowledge of it far surpasses yours."   
  
"No one can know everything, though. Not matter how long they study."   
  
Arthur had only half an ear trained on the argument currently going on around him, they weren’t looking for this input anyway. The rest of Arthur’s attention was directed inwards to his thoughts.

If what was being said was to be believed, then Cenred had some serious magical strength on his side. Not for the last time, he cursed his father’s distrust of magic and how he had alienated all the magic users in the kingdom.

He worried what it would mean for when they clashed on the field tomorrow.

~

His cracked his eyes open slowly, wary of what he would see once he did so. When only continued silence greeted him, along with the seemingly unending darkness he felt himself relax a little. Content that there was no immediate outside danger, Merlin blinked his eyes fully open and pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing as some of his cuts pulled.

He ran a hand up his face and through his already messy hair, leaving it in an even worse condition. He shuffled along the floor until he reached the wall, which he then leant against, a small sigh escaping him as he did.

Merlin allowed his hands to drift to the ground as he reviewed his current situation. It wasn’t really a surprise, he mused, that Conon had reacted in the way he did. Thus finding himself back in the so-nicknamed ‘isolation room’ was not a surprise either.

Rolling his shoulders he felt the left one give a twinge. It seemed he had hurt it more than he had initially thought when he had been pushed down. Deciding to just rest for now, Merlin tucked his arm tightly against his body trying to relieve some of the stress on it.

He allowed his mind to drift back to the first time he had been left here.

At the time, being taken to isolation and left there for a few hours had seemed like the worst thing in the world, now he just wished that was all the punishment entailed. 

He found it almost funny that his first punishment had been because he had failed to read a few words he’d been required to read out loud. That seemed laughable now.

With a sigh he resigned himself to being sat alone for hours.

~

Merlin stood at the front of the room, but to the very left. The king wanted him to be in the sight of everyone to remind them of the power he held under his thumb, but he was kept at the side so that he was out of the way. This was because he was never called on by the council, but was rather just expected to follow orders. 

After a successful surprise attack on Camelot, Cenred was taking the opportunity to gloat, whilst Merlin felt sick. 

He has killed men. Men who weren't even armed, let alone in any kind of position to defend themselves. He felt like such a coward. 

Though he knew Cenred would disapprove if he happened to look round, Merlin wrapped his arms around himself, in a sort of single hug. Trying to keep himself together. 

~

Arthur had risen long before he needed to, stress and worry for the day ahead making it impossible for him to go back to sleep, however much he wished. Instead he just lay there waiting for the moment in which he had to leave his bed.

 

He opened his eyes curious to how early it still was. Seeing that his tent was bathed in a respectable amount of light, but still not enough to indicate that it was day time yet, he let his eyes fall back closed.

Instead, he listened to the quiet sounds of his fellow knights in their own slumber, using this as a method to distract his mind.

He dragged his blanket higher so it was covering his ears. It wasn’t exactly cold, but he found a certain amount of comfort in the soft brush of the fabric against his skin. His father would probably have found Arthur’s thoughts childish and something to be stopped, but right now he couldn’t care less what the man would have said on the matter.

~

Battle was always brutal. The morals and codes that prevailed during training were thrown out the window and it became a case of survive by any means necessary. 

Arthur stabbed out, impaling a man in one smooth motion. The next moment, he was on the ground having ducked a fireball that came shooting past, originating from someone over Cenred's line. 

That attack had almost succeeded in taking him out. He had thrown himself to the floor just in time for it to fly over him but he clearly felt the intensity of its heat as it passed by. He glanced over his shoulder seeking out the eventual landing location of the fire ball. He cringed as he caught sight of men on fire, but he had turned back away before he could determine whether the men were his or the enemy.

Rolling over and pushing back to his feet Arthur engaged another man, still keeping half an eye out for any other magical attacks, and trying to ignore the screams of those who still burnt behind him.

A sudden clamour made Arthur spin around, expecting to see his knights had been taken out by yet another magical attack. What met his eyes, however, was something he could never have predicted in his wildest dreams. 

Men were running–screaming as they burnt to death. But it wasn't Camelot’s knights that were the victims. It was Essetir knights. And what was more, the fire that was clearly responsible was burning deep into the area where only Cenred's men were stationed. 

"What..." Arthur had only a moment more to muse aloud as the cry of an enemy brought him back to where he was. 

~

Arriving back at his now dark room, Merlin didn't spare a thought for anything except for his bed wanting nothing more than to collapse into it and sleep.    
  
He got as far as the collapsing, but instead of being allowed to drift off into dreamland, his door was flung open with enough force to send it bouncing off the opposite wall.    
  
Jerking upright, suddenly wide awake as adrenaline surged round his system, he looked over to see who had caused the disturbance.    
  
Conon stood in the door, his features obscured by the light directly behind him. He didn't need to see the man's expression though, as his entrance spoke enough about how he was feeling.   
  
Jumping to his feet, Merlin lifted his hand threateningly, though he was dismayed to see it shaking slightly. 

  
  
"What do you want?"   
  
"I'm here to punish you for your little  _display_ earlier." Merlin's stomach dropped. Creating the fire in the middle of their troops was a bad idea but he couldn't help himself. He couldn’t stand by and watch them kill. 

What was left his soul was already black. Better on Merlin’s conscience than anyone else's. 

"I only did what I thought was right!"

"Did you now? Well I think I need to reeducate you on what 'right' is," Conon sneered, stalking further into the room. 

With a word he sent Merlin flying backwards, sending him crashing against his bed. 

"Ah!" Merlin pulled himself back up using the bed, which he was glad had slightly cushioned his landing. 

Feeling anger and adrenaline fuel him, Merlin pushed both palms forwards, sending the same spell that had just been used on him at Conon, who smacked into the wall. He ignored the burning in his wrists, right now he had more important things to deal with.

Conon somehow had held onto consciousness, and was slowly regaining his feet.

Aware that he was trembling all over, Merlin lifted his hand. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw that the normally sleek fabric of his shirt was singed, the metal of his cuffs just visible through the now loose weaves.

“Impressive.” Conon sneered, dragging a hand across his mouth to clear away the small trickle of blood that had wound it’s way down his chin. “I’ve never known anyone to overcome the cuffs to the extent you have.” His eyes travelled over Merlin’s form, “although it appears that you’re paying dearly for it.”

Merlin remained silent, trying instead to steady his hands to no avail.

Conon snapped his own hand up, throwing a spell that manifested in the form of a visible shock wave.

Hardly knowing what he was doing, Merlin pushed with his magic, screwing his eyes closed as he did.

There was an almighty bang as the magic collided that left a slight ringing in Merlin’s ears. However when no other sounds greeted him, Merlin risked opening his eyes.

Everything that had stood in front of him, was scattered at the very opposite wall. Pieces of furniture were smashed beyond recognition, along with the furniture was Conon–or rather his body. 

He was covered in small cuts, each of them slowly oozing blood, but Merlin knew the man was dead from the large chunk of wood that had perhaps once been a chair leg, sticking out of his chest.

Merlin felt his blood drain from his face, his trembling turning to full on shakes.

Panting and barely able to stand any longer, Merlin summoned the last dredges of his magic and pushed Conon's body from the room and shut the door, barely having the foresight to click the lock into place as well.

He couldn’t have said how he managed it, but somehow he took the three steps to his bed and collapsed on it once more, except this time he was dead to the world before he even hit the pillow. 

~

No one came to wake him that morning, so he slept straight through. His body and magic needing all the rest it could get to recuperate. 

By the time he did wake it was too an unnatural silence. It struck him as strange that as far as he was aware no one had tried to break his door down to find out what had happened to Conon. It was, after all, very obvious that whatever had happened had gone down in Merlin’s room.

He shivered despite the heavy blankets as his mind's-eye conjured up the image of Conon’s body. Pulling his blanket over his head he curled around one of his pillows, feeling for all the world like a helpless child.

~

With a cry Arthur swung his sword downwards, successfully managing to slice his attacker down from shoulder to waist, causing the man to drop to the ground dead. He felt only a tiny glimmer of remorse for the life that he had just ended. The man hadn't been evil, he had just been following his orders. Not so different from the Knights of Camelot.    
  
Breathing hard, Arthur was given no opportunity to rest as another man quickly took the place of his fallen comrade. Blinking away a few droplets of sweat from his eyes he brought his sword back up preparing to strike again.    
  
The next soldier was fast, striking out and almost cutting Arthur's arm, had he not twisted to the side at the last second. With a grunt Arthur met the man's next strike and successfully managed to disarm him with a quick flick of his wrist.    
  
Stepping over the two bodies that lay in front of him Arthur helped with the take down of another man who had managed to injure Sir Bors’ shoulder, thus leaving him open to attack. As the Essetirian knight fell with a cry, Arthur offered his hand down to Sir Bors who was now on the ground, thanks to a misstep.    
  
"Sire." The single word was enough for his thanks and gratefulness to be conveyed.    
  
Arthur was given a brief respite. It appeared that finally, all of the enemy men in the immediate area had been defeated. It occurred to him that the fight was a lot easier today, though realistically–if anything–it should have been harder. It took only a couple of seconds for him to work out why. Magical assistance for the enemy, whilst still there, was much smaller and less skilled. Maybe those responsible had been killed? It was the only logical thing he could think of. Deciding not to dwell on it, he charged onwards towards a pair of knights who were bravely fighting four of the enemy soldiers. 

With Cenred's side missing it's only advantage, Arthur was confident that they could win this war, and put Cenred in his place once and for all. 


	9. Chapter 9

Every step squelched uncomfortably as mud and blood mixed together covering the once lush green field in a dirty brown. 

 

The smell of blood both fresh and old mixed with that of burning, left everyone wanting to cover their noses in whatever crude manner they could. The sight was both equally repulsive and hypnotic, making them want to close their eyes and forget. So many lives were just scattered across the land, each blurring into the next.

 

The longer they searched the more futile it seemed that he would find any survivors out here, but nevertheless duty kept Arthur moving when the rest of him wanted to turn back.

 

A moan somewhere in front of him had him increasing his pace. His eyes fixed themselves forwards, trying to ignore where his feet fell.

 

He found the knight soon enough, kneeling at his side as he did so.

 

The knight's right leg had suffered a heavy slice, but other then that he appeared mostly unharmed.

 

Huffing slightly at the strain Arthur managed to maneuver himself under the man’s shoulders and heave him upright. It would be a long walk back to camp, Arthur having to carry the majority of the injured man's weight, but determination spurred him onwards.

 

~

 

There was nothing quite like war, Arthur decided, as he returned to this tent completely exhausted and covered almost head to foot in mud. Nothing could ever prepare you for how it was either.

 

He pushed aside the flap to his tent and took three steps inside, before he had taken his helmet off, and was working on the straps of the rest of his armour. He just wanted to get out of it as quickly as possible.

 

They had finally managed to beat back Cenred’s army, most of the few remaining soldiers had surrendered or they had run off as cowards.

 

Something Arthur just couldn’t shake was the lack of magical presence on the opposing team. There had been some throughout the whole campaign, but nothing on the scale he had been lead to believe Cenred had on his side, except for that first day.

 

It was almost as if it had been one sorcerer and they had fallen at the close of that first day. It seemed inconceivable that one person could be so magically gifted. But on the other hand, the loss of a larger group of sorcerers in such a short period of time was almost just as inconceivable. 

 

Freeing himself from his helmet, he shook his head, sending his already messy hair flying.

 

He felt his legs starting to wobble and half stumbled-half walked across to the chair he had set in the far corner of the tent, least he end up on the floor. 

 

He sighed loudly as he took the weight off. Returning to his attempt at removing his armour, he had the passing thought to call someone, but quickly dismissed it as he decided that everyone would be just as tired as he was, and he didn’t want to drag them from their rest.

 

Eventually he managed to unfasten everything, and with a last burst of energy got to his feet, moved his armour over to the table and then collapsed onto his bed.

 

He was teetering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness, when a knight arrived at the entrance of the tent.

 

“Sire?” The enquiry was slightly tentative–the speaker worried about disturbing his king.

 

With a quiet groan, Arthur pushed himself into a sitting position.

 

“Come in.”

 

the flap was pulled back to reveal Owen, who took one step into the tent, before nodding his head in deference to Arthur.

 

“My apologies, Sire.”

 

“Yes, yes.” He waved halfheartedly at the knight, just wanting him to continue.

 

“I just wanted to discuss our strategy for the remaining knights, tomorrow.”

 

Arthur wanted to sigh in tiredness, but he knew it was something that needed to be discussed sooner rather than later. So he resigned himself to remaining awake that bit longer.

 

~

 

“I don’t remember much from my childhood, except-” Merlin cut himself off with a grimace, and gave a sharp shake of his head before getting back on track and continuing. “One thing I do remember, however, was that you never submitted.” Merlin looked up, tired eyes meeting Morgause’s cold gaze across the room. “You fought him every second of the way. You went as far as directly disobeying him to help me.” Merlin took as shaky breath.

 

“Those aren’t the actions of a loyal follower, so why defend him now?"

 

"Because I cannot fall to Camelot!" There was pain in her words that Merlin did not understand. 

 

"In that case I cannot let you go." She flinched at his words, here no longer was a scared little boy, forced to act beyond his age, here was the most powerful warlock alive. 

 

"So be it."  Her first action was to lock down Merlin's cuffs. She knew he could access his magic without the blocks being lifted, but if she could strengthen them just enough, maybe just maybe she could stop him. 

 

She concentrated and both of Merlin's cuffs lit out up as her magic went to work strengthening the enchantments. Merlin flinched as they burned the skin of his arms, but he pushed back harder, eyes glowing so brightly, Morgause had to look away. 

 

There was a crack, it reverberated through her body, making her drop to the the floor in shock and pain. 

 

Looking up she met Merlin's eyes, surprised to see regret there.

 

"Just kill me already."

 

"I'm not going to kill you, but you will hate me for this." Merlin's eyes fell closed and there was a tug at Morgause's wrist. She looked down, eyes widening at the sight of her own cuff now glowing. 

 

She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when she felt it. A tug inside her, at  _her_ magic. 

 

It started as an uncomfortable itch, but quickly grew to be an agonising burn. She felt tears spring to her eyes as she realised what he was intending to do, and that she had no way of stopping him.

 

Merlin pulled and pulled, breaking the connection between Morgause and her magic. He could feel her magic struggling within his own, fighting to break free of his hold. It pushed and dragged at his own magic, a threat that it would try and return the favour, though realistically it stood no chance. What was one sorceresses power again that of Emrys?

 

As the final thread pulled free she screamed, and slipped unconscious. 

 

Merlin's eyes flew open and he staggered backwards, completely off kilter. He felt like he had just consumed ten of the physician's energy potions in quick succession. He wanted to both fall into a heap and run a mile, his muscles twitching just so under his skin.

 

His sleeves were now in shreds, fully exposing the cuffs and his skin was painted pink from the heat. Twisting his wrists slowly, he felt cracked skin pull, and blood slid under the metal staining his skin with smears.

 

He turned a mournful gaze on Morgause's still form, then turned on his heel and fled. 

 

He didn't get far however. As soon as he turned a corner he ran into the king. 

 

"Merlin my boy. Fancy meeting you here."

 

Merlin flinched back, and blanched, not that he had much colour left to lose. 

 

"I want to ask you why you thought it was alright to start killing my men?" The king’s gaze seemed to bore holes into Merlin, making him fidget even more as his magic roiled within him. "I guess you didn't realise this but as much as the others can control your magic it is nothing compared to what I can do."

 

With that final word, Merlin felt a searing pain and then everything fell black. 

 

~

 

Arthur was wary. For some reason it had been incredibly easy to break into Cenred's castle. It was like all his men had just upped and left the place almost unguarded. 

 

He walked slowly through the corridors, ears straining to hear anyone, but all was strangely quiet. 

 

He turned a corner spotting a large set of double doors that usually indicated the room beyond was of importance. 

 

Blinking once and deciding there was as good a place as any, Arthur approached. 

 

He pushed a door open in one strong movement. Expecting not to find anyone in the room, he was shocked then when his eyes landed on Cenred. 

 

The opposing king was sat lazily in his throne, acting for all the world like he hadn't just lost a war. 

 

"Ah, Arthur. I was wondering when you would get here," he spoke in such a conversational manner almost throwing Arthur off. 

 

"Cenred, I see you've stopped hiding behind other people." He hoped the taunt would rile the king up. It did it's job perfectly. 

 

"Think I'm hiding do you? I'll show you hiding!" He leapt off of his chair drawing both of his swords in one movement. 

 

Though his enemy had more experience and two weapons, Arthur had the greater skill. It wasn't easy but sure enough he managed to get Cenred on his back, both weapons lost. 

 

"I will show you mercy, but by the Gods if you do anything wrong and I hear about it that will be it for you." Arthur’s threat hung in the air for a moment. Behind him there was the sounds of his knights arriving but he did not look away.

 

Pressing his sword forwards the tiniest amount, so it nicked Cenred’s skin, the other king finally submitted.

 

~ 

 

Having left Cenred in the company of some of his knights, Arthur decided to continue his investigation. He headed deep into the castle, down to the dungeons. Maybe someone down there was an ally, who knew?

 

It turned out that most of the cells were empty, until he reached one near the end. A look inside of the small window at the top of the door showed what appeared to be the huddled form of a young man. 

 

Arthur was curious as to why he was locked up at the back of the dungeon in one of the more secure cells. He must have some sort of significance.

 

Frowning to himself, Arthur rifled through the keys he had found hung conveniently up at the entrance, trying a few in the lock until it clicked open. 

 

The figure inside looked up at the sound of the door, revealing a pale and bloodied face. 

 

"Who are you?" His voice was weak as he spoke, asking before Arthur could ask the same. 

 

"I am King Arthur of Camelot. Who are you?" He had almost expected the boy to draw away at his admission. He was at war with this kingdom after all, regardless of who had instigated it.

 

A smile broke across the face of the boy, because that's what he was really, a boy. Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. A reaction like that was probably the one he was expecting the least.

 

"You did it. I'm so glad." He sat up with difficulty, a genuinely happy expression on his face. "My name is Merlin, I  _was_ one of Cenred's sorcerers." Arthur’s eyes narrowed momentarily at this, but he dismissed the expression so quickly he doubted Merlin had even registered it.

 

"Was?" asked Arthur, surprised at what Merlin had said. He inched a little closer having already decided that Merlin clearly was no threat. 

 

"For some reason, the king didn't like me setting fire to his troops." Merlin spoke with no emotion as he said this, but it still had Arthur falling back onto his heels in surprise. “He especially didn’t take too well to me attacking the other sorcerers.” The second bit was added quieter.

 

"That was you?" Arthur gasped out, the event in question flashing before his eyes.

 

Merlin nodded, blue eyes huge in his thin face, Arthur stared in shock at this revelation, he had passed the fire off as some anonymous sorcerer who didn’t like the Essetir king, but didn’t want to come to the attention of Camelot. They both remained frozen for a moment, before Merlin tried to rise.

 

Arthur abandoned all propriety and wrapped an arm under Merlin's armpits, helping him to his feet once it became clear he could not manage alone. 

 

He felt Merlin's muscles tense as he touched him, clearly in pain. 

 

"Did Cenred do this to you?" He suddenly wished he had punched the king when he had been at his mercy. 

 

"Most of it. Some was from before." Arthur nodded at the half-arsed explanation. "I need to be careful of my ribs, but I'll be fine." He grimaced, one hand tentatively poking at his left side.

 

Arthur pulled a face thinking about how troublesome broken ribs could be. He reached out a hand to Merlin, unexpectedly glad when the sorcerer met it with his own.

 

"Well you'll get as long as you need to recover. You're coming back to Camelot with me."

 

~

 

The pair of them were sat in Arthur’s tent, Arthur on his chair and Merlin on the bed.

 

“Why are you still wearing those?” Arthur nodded at the two silver bands clearly visible on Merlin’s pale wrists.

 

Merlin was momentarily startled by the question, before he looked away in embarrassment.

 

“I don’t actually know how to take them off.”

 

Arthur’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of confusion, before with a slight jerk of his head he asked, “but surely you can just magic them off?”

 

Merlin shook his head in the negative, suddenly feeling useless.

 

“But why not?”

 

“They’re magic suppressing bands. Magic, especially the magic they are suppressing, can’t be used to take them off.”

 

“Oh gods, I didn’t realise that’s what they were.”

 

“Why else did you think I served Cenred? He had almost complete control over me.”

 

“I- I thought it might have been because of how those with magic are treated almost everywhere else, with such distrust and fear...” He would have continued, but for the expression that started to take over Merlin’s face.

 

Merlin had a moment to look outraged before he he jumped to his feet sending the the blankets half onto the floor, and retaliated. “That’s what you thought! Really, Arthur? Even after you found me chained at the very back of Cenred’s dungeons not long ago, close to death!” He had gone red in the face, and was starting to waver where he stood.

 

“Woah, Merlin!” Arthur jumped up onto his own feet, stepping up next to Merlin to support him back down to sit on the bed. He could feel the younger man trembling both from exertion and anger he realised. “I didn- Gods, I didn’t mean it like that Merlin.”

 

He left his hand on Merlin's shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles onto the back of a sharp shoulder blade.

 

Merlin had his head turned studiously away from Arthur, in an effort to ignore the king.

 

“Look, I’m sorry. Alright?” I’ve just not had much contact with those that use magic. Anyone who lived within Camelot moved out a long time ago, and those few we do see are only there to cause havoc. 

 

Merlin remained silent, apparently having decided that he was also going to give Arthur the silent treatment.

 

After a few minutes Arthur’s patience ran out. 

 

“Merlin! If you continue to ignore me I can’t help you get them off.” His tone was a little abrupt, but he refused to feel apologetic about it knowing it was necessary.

 

Clearly reluctant, but conceding the point to Arthur, Merlin turned back around.

 

“I don’t know, like I said.” Merlin bit his lip before continuing, “is there anyone in Camelot that knows a lot about magic? They don’t have to have been a magic user themselves to know about it.”

 

Arthur contemplated what Merlin had said, initially drawing a blank until the obvious answer popped straight into his head.

 

“Gaius, of course.” Arthur wore a pleased expression as he declared his answer.

 

“Ummm, who?” Merlin asked, tone as confused as his expression became.

 

“He’s the court physician back in Camelot. He can actually perform a very small amount of magic himself, but the that’s not why I suggested him. Whenever there is a magical problem he always manages to find the answer. That, and he’s been around since before the distrust became so prevalent. He’s bound to know about cuffs like these.” Arthur’s emphasis grew with each word he spoke, until he was practically grinning at Merlin.

 

Inspired by Arthur’s own happiness, Merlin cracked a small smile.

 

“Thank you Arthur, truly.”

 

~

 

I took a long time for their camp to be packed away again, and then even longer for the whole of Camelot's army to make it back to the kingdom. This, as a consequence, gave Merlin time to start healing. 

 

He had just returned to being able to walk unaided, and his energy levels were making their way back up. 

 

What was not healing, however, was the long sword slash down the centre of his back, and the burns on his wrists from the cuffs. They’d, had Merlin wrapped almost from head to toe in bandages as the wide extent of his injuries became clear. He was still dressed in his clothes from Cenred–he men from Camelot having nothing they could spare to give him.

 

This drew more than a few looks of confusion and suspicion, though no one said anything out loud.

 

When he and Arthur clattered into the courtyard upon one horse, people ran from the castle to greet their king shouting in triumph at their victory. 

 

Arthur dismounted first, then helped Merlin down as his ribs still pained him after so long riding. 

 

Arthur steered him through crowds of people trying to offer their congratulations, taking him up into the castle itself. They wove through corridors that Merlin had no hope of remembering, until they finally stopped at a simple wooden door. 

 

Arthur didn't knock, rather just mounted the step up and went inside, dragging Merlin with him. 

 

"What is i- Arthur!' exclaimed an old man with long white hair. "And who is this?" He directed a raised eyebrow at Arthur, then offered Merlin a smile at his bewildered expression. 

 

"This is Merlin. He needs you to have a look at him," Arthur said, pushing Merlin forwards, and making him blush. Drawing both arms around himself, Merlin allowed his head to drop.

 

"It's nothing really... I've survived worse," Merlin tried to argue. He didn't like being the centre of attention, the touch of a hand at the centre of his back, meant to direct him deeper in the room, caused Merlin to flinch.

 

Gaius raised an eyebrow at this,  and quickly ushered Merlin onto the patient's bed, before he could even open his mouth to utter another protest.

 

~

 

All of Merlin's wounds had finally been taken care of, and the three of them were just settling down with some tea Gaius had made. Merlin was sat in the patient's bed still, clearly flagging already as his ordeal got the best of him. Arthur and Gaius were both perched on the bench opposite him so they had somewhere to put their drinks.

 

Merlin cradled his own tea under his chin, fingers of both hands wrapping around the pottery. His eyes travelled back and forth, watching the pair converse, but feeling no need to offer any input himself.

 

"So they're magic blocking cuffs, hmm?" the physician said staring at Merlin's right wrist which was closest to the physician. He reached out a hand, palm facing up and Merlin didn’t hesitate to place his wrist on it.

 

Gaius hummed for a moment as his eyes analysed every detail of the cool metal, as it sat above thick white bandages. Reaching out with his other hand, he ran a finger over the engravings.

 

"Unfortunately there is nothing I can go to remove them." Both Merlin's and Arthur's faces fell at that. "All is not hopeless, however. While I cannot do this, I do know someone who can."

 

Merlin and Arthur met each others eyes, the first in hope and the second in confusion.

 

“I didn’t realise that there was any other sorcerers in Camelot, Gaius,” Arthur said.

 

“Ah well, he is no ordinary sorcerer.”

 

~

 

“Destinies, my dear young warlock, are troublesome things,” the dragon said in lieu of a proper introduction. Everyone except for Gaius was staring in open mouthed shock. This was the someone!? 

 

They hadn’t been able to get out of Camelot for a few days, and during that time both Merlin and Arthur had wondered what Gaius had meant by “no ordinary sorcerer”. It seemed now that the man had been underestimating how unusual who it was they had been coming to meet would be.

 

Merlin glanced at Arthur, as if he expected the other man to know more about those words then he did. The king shrugged back, giving his head a small shake, and flicking his eyes back up towards the dragon in a sign for Merlin to pay attention to him rather than Arthur himself.

 

Merlin rolled his eyes back, but then did turn back to the dragon.

 

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

 

“What I mean is, that you two’s roles in this world have been told for hundreds of years, and whilst some things about what you shall do are clear, other parts are subjected to the interpretation of the reader.”

 

Both Merlin and Arthur had their mouths hanging open in incredulity at this.

 

“I think you’ve got the wrong people,” Arthur said when Merlin remained silent. “We,” he waved a hand between himself and the warlock, “can’t be those people of legend.”

 

"Oh but indeed you are, and there is nothing you can do to escape that."

 

Merlin and Arthur met each other's eyes, deciding that if they were or were not these people of legend, they would work as hard as they could towards peace. 

 

"And now about those cuffs." They both perked up at this. "I need you to sit perfectly still whilst I remove them. There's no telling how bonded to your magic they are and I may need to separate them from each other." Merlin nodded, taking the spot directly in front of the dragon. 

 

"This may also hurt." Merlin squeezed his eyes shut at his words, leaving his wrists balanced lightly on his knees.

 

Kilgharrah inhaled, and then exhaled as a fine gold mist appeared hovering over Merlin. 

 

The onlookers were transfixed. The gold surrounded Merlin, as the cuffs suddenly lit up in the same colour.

 

A small whimper escaped Merlin, and he curled forwards. Behind him Arthur made an aborted attempt to go to him, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

 

He looked around to see that Gwaine was the owner of the hand. The knight directed a meaningful look at Gaius, then Merlin then back to Arthur himself, silently communicating.

 

Arthur held eye contact with Gwaine for a moment, before the knight removed his hand. satisfied that Arthur had gotten the message.

 

There was a clank as both cuffs unlocked, followed by a sudden rush of gold as Merlin’s magic escaped.

 

No one knew what to expect as the magic rushed over them, but as it did they found themselves relaxing. The magic felt warm and seemed to wash away the lingering aches they still held from the days in battle.

 

Slowly the magic started to dispel, and Merlin who had been frozen for the duration tilted forwards.

 

This time Arthur didn’t hesitate to go to him, catching him before he could reach the ground, and holding his small body against his own.

 

~

 

After Merlin had passed out from the shock of getting his magic back, Arthur had taken his cloak off, and wrapped it tightly around Merlin who suddenly looked incredibly fragile.

 

He didn’t spare more than half a glance at the two now mangled bands that sat on the grass just a few feet away. The dragon had rendered them powerless, so he saw no harm in leaving them where they had fallen.

 

He slid one arm behind Merlin’s head and shoulders cradling him close to his chest, then eased his other one under Merlin’s long legs and hefted him up. He made a mental note to make sure Merlin got enough to eat back in Camelot, so he could try and get up to a more healthy weight.

 

Turning a one hundred and eighty, Arthur nodded to Leon who had somehow managed to remain calm through the entire duration of events that he had just played witness too.

 

Leon nodded in return and went to fetch their five horses, which had been tied out into the tree line so that they would not get spooked by the dragon.

 

Arthur, Gwaine and Gaius watched as the dragon pushed off from the ground. massive wings catching on a current of air and lifting him into the sky.

 

Once he was out of sight, Arthur followed slowly after Leon’s path, content that they didn’t need to rush immediately back to Camelot. He met up with Leon and the horses, and with some assistance he got Merlin settled securely in front of himself on the horse, so that they could make the journey back to Camelot.

 

~

 

The first thing Merlin was aware of was an all surrounding warmth, along with something almost unbelievably soft that he was lying on. This struck him as weird. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as warm and comfortable. Not even when Cenred had first taken him in and had tried to almost bribe him into compliance. 

 

He peeled his tired eyes open one at a time, brow furrowing in confusion at the unfamiliar surroundings he found himself in. There was so much red. No way he could still be in Essetir, then. His memories of the past few days seemed fuzzy and far away. Whenever he tried to hold onto them, they slipped away from him.

 

He tried to sit up, but at that moment his muscles decided to make themselves known and not in a nice way. They ached all the way down to the bones. It was as if he had run the whole length of the kingdom five times, except it wasn’t exclusive to just his legs, but was his whole body. 

 

No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get his shaky arms to hold his weight and he ended up basically sprawled under the covers, panting as he tried to recover from the exertion.

 

Deciding instead to try and work out where he was whilst remaining laying down, Merlin let his eyes travel around the room. He took in the lighter colour of the stone work and the large window that he could see from the corner of his eye, which flooded the room with light.

 

The place seemed familiar somehow, he just couldn’t work out how. Deciding he was at least safe for now, wherever he was, and that it was not Essetir, was all that was needed to send Merlin back to sleep. 

 

~

 

He woke up later to the sound of Arthur's voice and the realisation of where exactly he was. How could he have forgotten being freed from Cenred..? More importantly how could he have forgotten Arthur? Looking up he saw Arthur sat at his table, talking to a pretty looking servant. 

 

He ran a hand across his face and up through his hair, taking the moment to get this mind back on track. Blinking a few times he focused on the servant.

 

She was dressed in a white and yellow dress, which while simple, suited her.

 

Sliding his arms behind himself Merlin attempted to sit up. His ribs, still healing, protested a little and he failed at holding back a moan.

 

Hearing the sound the pair looked over.

 

"Ah, Merlin. You're finally awake." Arthur smiled, and Merlin offered a small smile back, feeling the tips of his ears redden under his hair.

 

He and Arthur stared at each other for a moment, when the shuffling of feet drew their attention.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur looked away, "this is Gwen." He waved his hand towards her for emphasis.

 

"It’s nice to meet you," Gwen said with a bright smile. Her presence and expression helped him relax, something he was very unaccustomed to when it came to servants. He casting her a bigger smile as he replied.

 

"It's nice to meet you as well."

 

“Arthur said you’re from Essetir?” she asked suddenly. His smile fell, and it took him a moment to answer.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Not that, that’s a bad thing. Of course not. I was just curious,” she added as soon as he responded, having seen his mood change. He felt his muscles loosen a little at her amendment. It appeared she was genuinely curious, rather than seeking conflict.

 

“So, Gwen. What can you tell me about dealing with this one?” He joked, nodding his head towards Arthur. 

 

Gwen’s eyes widened and she looked in shock between Merlin who was smiling and Arthur who at first scowled, before the king threw one of his spare shirts at Merlin, hitting him right in the face.

 

“It’s not polite to throw things at an injured man!” Merlin exclaimed with a pout.

 

“You, however, are a special case,  _Mer_ lin.” Pulling the shirt off of his head Merlin smiled back even wider, completely unperturbed by Arthur’s words–knowing after the time they had spent together that it was just how he showed his affection.

 

“Whatever you say,  _Sire._ ” His retort trailed off into a laugh, which only served to set Arthur off as well.

 

Gwen’s mouth which had fallen open as she watched them trade back and forth, snapped shut as it clicked that they were just indulging in teasing.

 

“I’d better leave you two to it. Sire, Merlin.” She dismissed herself feeling a little like she was intruding on something.

 

He didn't realise it then, but Gwen would prove to be a rock when his emotions got the better of him. 

 

~

 

Merlin had always known people would be distrustful of him. Cenred had made sure everyone had not only heard of who Merlin was back in Essetir, but also that he was some sort of ruthless killer. It seemed that reputation had spread past the borders of the kingdom, and as was customary with anything passed on by word of mouth, the details had changed. In this case painting Merlin in an even worse light.

 

It hadn’t taken very long for someone to put the pieces together, but the instant they did every citizen of Camelot knew.

 

He had never been sure about exactly how people would behave towards him. Being that he had been seen in a vulnerable state upon arrival in Camelot, he had apparently naively thought that would convince people that at least some of the rumours held no basis in reality. Unfortunately he quickly found that this was not the case at all.

 

The snide half-whispered words that would follow him around the castle he could deal with. He had been dealing with that for his whole life. It was those that had more confidence, who spat at his feet, and shouted words that, on their lonesome may not have carried much weight, but when presented with such looks of either hatred or fear, sent Merlin reeling internally.

 

It was difficult, but he always managed to keep his outward expression under control, acting as if nothing unusual had happened. As soon as he found somewhere private, however, his composure broke.

 

Curling in on himself, he would all but collapse against the nearest wall. Hands pawing at his still healing wrists as he felt the phantom weight of the cuffs

 

This continued for four days after the dragon had freed him before someone finally discovered him.

 

~

 

Gwen hummed to herself as she walked briskly down the corridor. She was in a cheerful mood as the weather had started to brighten up, and her chores for the day were only light ones. Currently she was tasked with putting a pile of winter sheets away into storage. This involved her having to travel to the more disused area of the castle, which had been designated as use for storage.

 

It was as she was on her way back towards the busier area of the castle that she heard it. The creak of old hinges from somewhere off to her left.

 

She paused wondering who it could be. Looking around and seeing no one else she decided to go and investigate.

 

She kept her footsteps light. Though it was unlikely, there was still a chance that whomever it was, was someone up to no good.

 

As she got closer she started to hear the sound of rustling fabric, as well as...sniffling? Eyebrows drawing together in confusion, she gently pushed open the door, behind which the sound was coming from.

 

She wasn’t sure who she had expected to find but it certainly wasn’t Merlin.

 

He was sat on the floor, back to the wall with his legs pulled up close, so his face was hidden. He gave a choked off hiccup, and Gwen abandoned all thoughts of being sneaky and hurried over.

 

She dropped to the floor beside him and laid a hand carefully on his closest shoulder. He stiffened under her touch before he ever-so-slowly he lifted his head.

 

His eyes were red though his cheeks were almost completely dry. It took him a moment to register who it was that had found him, but once he did his muscles relaxed and he almost seemed to wilt against the wall.

 

“Merlin?” Gwen hardly knew what to ask. She had learnt from Arthur a bit about who Merlin was, as well as having heard all the rumours that were flying about. But here, now, she could not reconcile the imagine of the power hungry killer with what she saw.

 

“What happened?”

 

He opened his mouth as if to answer her, instead swallowing loudly as he tried to steady himself.

 

“They- ah they said that I...” It was clearly a struggle for him to get the words out, and Gwen almost missed the last part of what he said, as his voice grew quieter. “That I enjoy killing, that’s why I had to kill both the Camelot and Essetir ones during the battle.”

 

His eyes, which up until now had been glued to her’s turned to the floor, and he had somehow managed to pull his legs even closer to his chest.

 

Not knowing what to say, Gwen abandoned words and instead wrapped him in her arms pulling him closer so she could hug him.

 

“You know what, Merlin?” She said, stroking one hand up and down his arm. “Anyone that thinks that is clearly touched in the head.”

 

She received a muffled snort in return.

 

“They just haven’t had a chance to get to know you yet. They’re all obsessed with rumours.” Merlin looked back up as she continued speaking. His cheeks which had been devoid of colour in contrast to his red eyes, now held a slight tinge of pink.

 

“Don’t you believe them as well?”

 

“No,” she said firmly, “I know you. You’re a good person.”

 

“Not that I don’t think you’re powerful, or that you don’t have enough control, just that well...” She blushed biting at her bottom lip, as her words got tied in knots. Merlin offered her a weak smile, trying to show that she hadn’t done any harm. 

 

“Why don’t you tell me about what it was like?”

 

~

 

Having talked to Gwen the other day, Merlin found himself more confident when it came to interacting with the other residents. He was able to brush off their actions and comments.

 

Unfortunately as was typical of bullies, they decided to take another avenue. 

 

Merlin had just collected food from the kitchens and was making his way leisurely back through the castle when he encountered them. 

 

Four of the kingdom’s younger knights were stood to the side. As they saw Merlin approach they all turned to watch him. 

 

He thought that he would make it past without them doing anything, but as they passed out of his eyesight one of them finally spoke. 

 

"Oi, sorcerer." 

 

Merlin found himself stopping despite his better judgement, though he did not turn. 

 

"I heard that you killed your mum.” There was no hint of wonder in the statement, no trace of accusation just the surety one has when reciting a fact.

 

“Innocents not enough for you? Had to move on to your family as well?"

 

Cold filled Merlin in a way it had not since he had, had the cuffs removed. It spread through his veins and made his hair stand on end. His knuckles whitened as his hold on the tray tightened, eyes staring down but not really seeing.

 

“Well?” The was a pause, “nothing to say for yourself?”

 

Pressing his lips together Merlin slowly turned.

 

“I think a report needs to be made to the king about the  _real_ you. Clearly right now he must be under some sort of enchantment.”

 

The implications that not only had he killed his mother, but that he had enchanted Arthur, caused more pain than he ever could have guessed at.

 

Back completely rigid he lifted his gaze to that of the knight, “you think so, do you?” His voice lacked emotion, and was a perfect match to what he was being implied as.

 

Normally bright blue eyes, darkened as he brought to mind all the suffering he had endured, and all that he had been the cause of.

 

The knight suddenly didn’t look so sure of himself, faced with the anger of someone who could take his life with just a thought. Behind him his friends looked concerned, whether they had thought at the beginning his actions had been a good idea or not, now they clearly didn’t.

 

Merlin could feel his magic pulsing under his skin. Ever since it had been freed it seemed eager to leap to his every demand. With just a lazy flick of his wrist he sent the tray floating almost gracefully out of his hands.

 

A widening of eyes greeted the display, but suddenly one of them found their courage, pushing through from the back of the group.

 

“So you’re going to kill us, just like do did your mum? But then Arthur will know who you really are, a  _monster!_ ”

 

The last word made him physically recoil, no one had called him a monster for a long time, but in his own mind he had long associated himself with the term.

 

The anger he had felt before was suddenly gone, leaving him almost empty. His shoulders dropped sharply, and he backed away a step, wanting to get as far away as he could, as soon as he could.

 

The knights, seeing the change in him offered more recriminations, each word battering against his mind, wearing down the shield Gwen had helped him construct. He took another step back as the knights took one forwards, shaking his head as if he could change their minds.

 

Feeling his magic itching at his fingertips, he turned and all but ran.

 

~

 

He sat on his and Arthur’s bed in the dark, unable to summon the energy to light a torch, even with his magic.

 

Liquid gathered along the bottom of his eyelids. He didn’t try and restrain it, letting tears slide slowly down each of his cheeks, dripping off his chin and landing on his trousers.

 

The door opening behind him made him tense. As far as he was in his thoughts he hadn’t heard anyone coming. He looked round to see who it was, and relaxed a little when he identified Gwen, letting his head fall again.

 

He listened as she walked slowly across the room, and around the end of the bed. He wondered what she would do next as she halted a few feet away from him, but he did not look up.

 

She seemed to reach a decision then, closing the distance, and sitting down beside him, close, but not touching.

 

He couldn't hold in his shakes, they just wanted out. They were racking through his whole body and leaving his muscles aching.

 

“No one probably ever told you this before, but your mum’s death was not your fault,” Gwen said, touching Merlin’s cheek softly. “The only person responsible is Conon. It sounds like Hunith made her peace. She would not have wanted you to live with the knowledge that you had harmed an innocent child just to save her, and she most certainly wouldn’t want you incorrectly shouldering the blame for her death.”

 

Merlin’s eyes were red as they met hers, and he nodded knowing what she was saying was the truth, but finding it hard to let himself accept it.

 

Sat here now, all he could think of was how much he had wanted to do something to those knights.

 

Eyes falling back to his hands, he said.

 

“Those, knights...I wanted so much to hurt them.” He couldn’t look up, scared she would agree with them, decide she no longer wanted to waste her time on a monster.

 

He heard Gwen sigh, before one of her hands reached out for his.

 

“No one could blame you for that, they deserved a good slap around the head for acting so inappropriately.” She squeezed his hand in a way that reminded him of his mum, and squeezing back he looked back up.

“Thanks.”

 

~

 

He and Arthur sat in the kings room. After Merlin’s break down with Gwen earlier, Arthur had decided to make the evening free so he could keep Merlin company. 

 

Somehow they had ended up talking about parents, or parental figures, seeing as they both had more experience with the latter.

 

“He didn’t realise it at the time but he filled a sort of gap…” Merlin trailed off not completely sure how to articulate his feelings, not having anything to draw a comparison with. “He found out later of course. He found out everything.” Wariness flooded his final words, and his eyes unfocused.

 

Arthur tensed as he watched Merlin fall into what were no doubt painful thoughts.

 

“I understand what you mean by the hole.” Though he didn’t usually do emotional talks, he felt it was his duty where Merlin was concerned to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault for wanting to find a father figure. Merlin’s eyes snapped back to Arthur’s face.

 

“I never knew my mother.” Arthur took a steadying breath. Though he knew it wasn’t his fault he still couldn’t help but feel melancholic. “She died just after I was born.” Merlin’s eye widened a fraction.

 

“I- I didn’t know.” Merlin stuttered out hastily.

 

Arthur, seeing the other’s struggle touched his hand lightly to Merlin’s shoulder. He gave a small squeeze, and gave him a weak smile.

 

“The only difference was I had kind people around me. People who would look out for me because they cared for me, not someone who just wanted to use me for their own ends.” Again Merlin’s eyes drifted away. 

 

~

 

Merlin had no experience with love or really any type of romantic attraction, but as he watched Arthur from where he was sat at the king’s table, a blanket around his shoulders to keep him warm. He knew that what he felt about Arthur was it. 

 

The first thing he thought of when he awoke was Arthur. Of course that was partly to be blamed on the fact that they slept in the same bed however, it even happened when Merlin continued sleeping past Arthur leaving. Now, with the man in question barely three feet away, Merlin’s stomach felt all aflutter.

 

He pulled his eyes away from tracking Arthur’s movements, biting his lip as he felt some warmth at the tips of his ears.

 

He waited a few minutes, just staring at his lap, before he glanced back up, almost jumping as he came face to face with Arthur himself.

 

The king met his eyes and quirked an eyebrow at him in a mildly suggestive manner. Merlin felt the warmth spread to the rest of his face, but found he couldn’t turn away.

 

They maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before Merlin managed to force his voice, though a bit raspy, to work.

 

“Arthur. Can I. Can I kiss you?”

 

Arthur’s eye widened a fraction, and he stepped closer. He had been expecting Merlin to be the one to make the first move.

 

“Yes-” He’d barely gotten the word out before Merlin had risen from the chair and pressed his lips against Arthur’s.

 

It was a messy affair, teeth clinking together, in their rush to start exploring each other’s mouths.

 

Merlin wrapped one hand around the back of Arthur’s neck pulling him closer, whilst his other hand trailed down Arthur’s back seeking the edge of his shirt.

 

The fabric was quickly disposed of, and Merlin's fingers were free to roam all over Arthur's chest and back. He reveled in tracing Arthur's muscles with his fingers, pausing only as his own shirt was removed. 

 

He felt a quick flicker of panic as he thought about how his body must look next to Arthur's, all lanky and parchment pale. But before he had opportunity to dwell on it Arthur had leant in placing shy little kisses on Merlin's neck. 

 

His head fell to the side to grant Arthur better access. Merlin trailed his hands down Arthur's front, lower and lower until he felt the fabric of the other's trousers.

 

He paused, hesitant. Then making his mind up pulled away so that Arthur had to stop kissing and look at him. 

 

"Merlin?" he asked gently. 

 

"Do you want to?" He couldn’t say the actual word, almost afraid that if he did he would jinx it. 

 

"Yes," Arthur's response was breathy. He leant in and kissed Merlin on the lips once more, whilst one hand landed in Merlin's lap, palming him through the thick brown fabric. 

 

Merlin moaned into Arthur's mouth, and returned the favour, sliding his fingers under Arthur’s waistband and brushing slowly against the warm skin of Arthur's length. 

 

Arthur groaned, pressing firmer against Merlin. Merlin felt warmth rise in his cheeks

 

Feeling suddenly bold Merlin used his other hand to untie the laces holding Arthur's trousers on, landing short kisses against the side of Arthur's mouth as he did so. 

 

Freeing the ties, he pushed the fabric away and tilted his head to see Arthur in his full glory. He grinned, heart rate picking up as he imagined what he and Arthur could do together. 

 

A tug at his own trousers drew his attention as Arthur worked at the laces there, his tongue just poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. 

 

Feeling cheeky, Merlin leant over and licked at Arthur's tongue, and ended up getting a big slobbery wet kiss to his nose for his troubles. 

 

Finally he was free from his own trousers, and kicking his heels to get rid if them completely, he shuffled closer to Arthur, both of his hands reaching out to grasp at Arthur’s cock and chest. 

 

Arthur in response took ahold of Merlin, matching his strokes, like for like. 

 

The sensation made his mouth fall open, eyes lazily drifting across Arthur's face. 

 

“You look ridiculous Merlin,” Arthur teased, causing Merlin to blush harder.

 

Retaliating by flicking a finger over over the head of Arthur’s cock, Merlin was rewarded with him uttering a long moan.

 

Recovering himself a little, Arthur squinted at Merlin, twisting his own hand in kind.

 

“Ahhh- Arthur,” Merlin somehow stuttered out.

 

The feeling suddenly stopped, and a hand settled on his, stopping that too. Blinking, Merlin's eyes widened. 

 

"You've done nothing wrong, I just don't want you to miss out in the best part."

 

Merlin blushed, but nodded, swinging his legs out from underneath himself and scooting over to lean his back against the pillows. 

 

From the lower angle he stared up through his lashes. Slipping his tongue out to lick his lips, he watched as Arthur tracked the movement. 

 

Arthur leant over the edge of the bed rummaging for a moment, before he popped back up, holding a smallish glass vial. 

 

He popped the top and liberally coated his fingers. He leaned in to give Merlin a kiss then pressed one finger against Merlin's hole and slowly slid it inside. 

 

Merlin let out a strangled half whimper as his body did not know how to respond to the new feeling.

 

"Shush," Arthur murmured in his ear and Merlin nuzzled his cheek against Arthur's whilst the finger inside him moved slowly. 

 

As Merlin grew more accustomed to the feeling, Arthur slid a second finger in, and Merlin noticed with a start that Arthur's erection had not flagged for a moment. In fact, it looked like it had grown stronger if that were possible. 

 

Arthur muttered reassurances to Merlin as his two fingers worked inside him. Merlin, wanting to convey his gratitude, sat up as best he could and took Arthur's left nipple into his mouth, sucking on it until Arthur moaned in pleasure, then licked at it slowly as he was stretched out.

 

Arthur added a third finger and Merlin swapped to the right nipple, plying it with the same treatment. 

 

Arthur suddenly withdrew his fingers and Merlin moaned at the loss, feeling suddenly empty, until he picked up the vial again gathering more of the liquid on his fingers. He moved to cover himself and Merlin struck out his own hand grasping Arthur's so they could slick him up together. 

 

They smiled at each other, leaning in for one more kiss before Arthur lined himself up. 

 

"Ready?" he asked, voice practically dripping with his need. 

 

"Gods yes, Arthur."

 

As Arthur pressed forwards, he returned a hand to Merlin's cock, teasing along the underside to help distract from the initial discomfort. 

 

"Arthuuur," Merlin moaned, dragging out the king's name as Arthur brushed against the spot inside of Merlin that felt so good. 

 

Merlin's eye rolled upwards as Arthur stared to move slowly. His mouth fell open, his tongue almost lolling as pleasure overcame any of the remaining discomfort. 

 

"Merlin. Feels so good," Arthur groaned out as he increased his pace slightly. 

 

They met each other's gaze, both with pupils blown wide. 

 

They increased the pace and moaned each other's names. The sounds becoming more and more indistinct. With one more thrust Merlin was coming, and as his muscles contracted around Arthur he too came, both trying to call each other's names though failing slightly as pleasure overrode everything else. 

 

As Arthur pulled out Merlin gave a happy sigh, a lazy grin on his face. 

 

Arthur spared only a moment to grab a cloth to wipe them both hastily down before he and Merlin shuffled under the blankets, twining their legs together and falling into slumber.

 

~

 

Merlin slowly woke, and found himself re-evaluating his thoughts from the other day.  _This_ was the most comfortable he had ever felt, tucked up against Arthur’s side, with one of the king's arms resting against the middle of his back. The steady pulse of Arthur’s heart in his chest under Merlin’s ear, and the slow deep breaths of sleep, made Merlin feel safe.

 

He opened his eyes and was greeted by the red expanse of the bed covers, his lips twitched upwards at the corners, and he carefully turned his head up so he could stare at Arthur’s face without waking him.

 

He traced the outline of Arthur’s jaw with his eyes, then moved up to the bow of his lips. He mapped the whole of Arthur’s face, determined to learn every inch of it. His smile grew as he took in each of other man’s gorgeous features.

 

As he was staring, he didn’t notice that Arthur had awoken, his fighter instincts having trained him to notice everything that went on around him. Because he didn’t realise Arthur had awoken, he also didn’t see that he was slowly sliding his free hand out from under the blankets, with the intention of stroking it through Merlin’s messy hair, and giving the warlock a small scare at the same time.

 

Merlin felt a some of his hair fall gently on his head, the small change in pressure only just noticeable, but not enough to arouse his curiosity. He shifted his gaze to Arthur’s bare chest laid out before him, resisting the urge to walk his fingers over the lightly tanned skin.

 

Instead he smiled up at his, eyes shining and knew this was where he belonged. 

 

The End. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for "For All That I Seem"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603860) by [TheHatMeister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHatMeister/pseuds/TheHatMeister)




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